Catgirl Begins
by Jasmine Scarthing
Summary: A dark, corrupt city. A city with no hope. Even the Batman wasn't helping much. Enter Annalia Mabel Gaylewood. Our spunky, determined young heroine doesn't quite know how to save her city. But she knows that no matter what anyone says, she's going to do it. Rated T for profanity and minor suggestive scenes. A Batman Begins AU. Reviews welcomed :-)
1. Okay, I'm Gonna Tell You a Story

Okay, I'm gonna tell you a story. It's about me(duh).Annalia Mabel Gaylewood, Annie for short. But it's about a lot of other things, too: heartache, pain, getting chewed out, etc., etc. Kind of a downer, right? Well, it isn't, really. It's about a lot of good things, too: thrills, adventure, heart, values, saving your city, and kicking butt.

That's not to say the story's ended. Oh, _nooo_. It's only just begun. I've still got limitless adventures ahead that I don't know about.

Over the past months, I've endured a lot: criticism, worrying, moral conflict, and not knowing just who I really am. But it's worth it.

You're probably itching to see what happens next, and to see more of my amazing writing(kidding, kidding! Although my writing is awesome), so here I go.

All of it started a little something like _this_.


	2. My Insanely Corrupt City

"Mary, I think you and I should become law-enforcement officials and fix this place up," Dad remarked as we traipsed through the dirty, smelly, wet streets of Gotham, an umbrella our only shield against the rain. "I wish, Thomas," Mom replied. (Dad's real name is Thomas Henry Gaylewood, but everyone except Mom calls him Tom.) "Only rich elites are even considered for legal work in Gotham."

"That's true," Dad sighed. "But no sane man would just leave his city to die in a fire of corruption." "I agree," Mom said, and they kissed. _Bleh! Yuck! _I thought. _I hope I don't fall in love till I'm 18! _

"Annie?" I jolted back to reality. "Oh! Sorry!" I apologized. "It's just that it's been this way for as long as I remember." "Yes," Mom sighed. "It was better when your dad and I got married, but it all went downhill from there."

"Why does it have to be like this anyway?" I burst out. "Why can't we all be friends instead of destroying each other?"

Mom and Dad were surprised.

Finally, Mom said quietly, "Sometimes we need some bad in our lives to balance out the good."

"You're right. I'm sorry," I said.

Dad sighed. "My father-he would never have stood for this. He would have given the law a piece of his mind."

"Yes," said Mom. "Your grandfather was a brave person, Annalia."

By the way, my grandfather is dead. Three years ago, when I was ten, a masked assassin shot him. And my grandmother, too. I saw it all. Even now, I miss him.

"I know," I murmured. We walked home in silence.


	3. School and the American Dream

It was Thursday. Tomorrow was Friday. I was pretty excited for the weekend. I finished my math worksheet on solving equations and had Dad check it, ate dinner (Mom had made mashed potatoes and BBQ chicken-our favorite) , and fell asleep.

The next day was Friday(duh). I'm kind of a loner, so I wasn't exactly gabbing my head off with friends. I was 12 years old, in 6th grade, and it was ending soon. It was April. _I wonder what I'll do this summer._

Some guy whistled at me and called, "Hey, Annie! Wanna go on a date?"

"Ugh! Gross! Forget it!" I exclaimed, and walked off like a model. In my opinion, sixth grade was waayy too young to start thinking about boys like _that_, if you know what I mean. I thought I wouldn't fall in love till much, much later. Boy, was I wrong!

The bell rang. _Oh, school started! _I rushed to homeroom.

My teacher talked on and on about plastic water bottles, but he's pretty funny, so it was okay. He's a good teacher. Pretty laid-back. Mr. Harry Lyon. That's his name.

He also talked about our theme this week: patriotism. That day, we talked about the American Dream(whatever that meant). "So, raise your hand if you believe in the American Dream," Mr. Lyon began.

We all stared at him in utter bewilderment. (I have an excellent vocabulary, if I do say so myself.) Finally, I raised my hand and timidly voiced what the whole class was probably thinking. "What's the American Dream?"

Mr. Lyon laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot, you haven't learned it yet. So the American Dream is an American principle that anyone can rise from where they were with hard work and determination."

I thought for a moment. "I believe in that, too," I declared.

"That's where America started from," Mr. Lyon said. _Maybe that's what Gotham needs, _I pondered. _A little more of ordinary folks rising. I'm not sure, though._

__"No!" my friend/enemy Marissa argued. "Look, people are bad and always will be! Okay?! Stop acting like such a prissy goody-goody!"

"I am not-" I started to say, before Mr. Lyons informed me to be quiet before I was sent to the office. I shut up.

In math, my teacher, Ms. Nert, handed back our tests from last week. "Another A-, Annie!" she praised me. "You're really a very smart girl. You have so much potential! Now if only you were more interested in class! I always catch you sleeping through lectures!"

"Sorry," I apologized. "I'm just tired, that's all."

An A-? I liked A-minuses. I wasn't sure if I was smart, though.

"No, I'm not!" I protested. "Smart is for Indian people and people who wear glasses! I'm just a girl who isn't smart!"

Yes, I know, I was a complete and utter racist back then.

"Just because you're an American doesn't mean you're stupid," a girl called out to me.

"Oh, I know," I said miserably. "I just can't see myself as a smart person."

"Look inside," Ms. Nert said, smiling. "I've known you for the whole year, and I see your scores. You're really very bright. You just can't see it yet."

I sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Oh, quit your whining, Miss Priss!" my classmate Marissa complained. "Who cares if you're smart or not? We have better things to do than listen to you!"

Meanwhile, Ms. Nert kept encouraging us girls to learn math and weed out the corrupt using "the power of calculation", or something. I love Ms. Nert, and she meant well, but I've always been more artistic and emotional myself. Not much of a math fan.

* * *

After math, it was time for English. Strolling off to class, I was suddenly bumped by a couple of eighth graders, who pushed me hard enough to make my backpack hang by only one strap. "Hey! Watch it!" I shouted, angrily yanking up my backpack.

"Oh, shut your trap, sixth grader!" one of them jeered, and they ran off laughing.

"Gosh! What jerks!" I muttered, trying to make my way to class.

In class, my English teacher, Mrs. Frankson, handed back our short stories from, you guessed it, last week.

"Annie," she said. "You did well. I keep telling you to discover your potential instead of talking in class, but do you listen? No. But you have potential. I can feel it."

"Sorry," I muttered. That statement about talking had put me in a bad mood.

I saw Marissa next to me, and she did not look happy.

"You all right?" I asked.

"Why do _you _get all the glory?" Marissa muttered. "You get called smart when you don't look smart at all. Fierce, yes. Arrogant, yes. Smart, no!"

"Stop it!" I whispered angrily. "Just stop it!"

"Whatever," she muttered, and sighed.

I looked away. Was I smart? I thought of how good I was in English, and how easily I remembered stuff sometimes. _No, that's not "smart". I'm not smart and never will be. _It was just something I was born with. Was it?

The whole way home from school that day, i thought. Was I smart? I wanted to be, but was I?


	4. I Meet Bruce Wayne

At 7:00, Mom and Dad said they were going to Bruce Wayne's party. _Thomas Wayne's son_, I thought. _He'd better be good. _

When we arrived, I couldn't believe how refined and classy it all was. I stood in my dress, trying to look respectful, and tried to watch my tongue._  
_

"You better behave, Annie," Dad whispered. "This is a very big party, and if you do anything stupid, we're gonna get hell for it."

Just then, a man stepped in. I figured this must be Mr. Bruce Wayne. He came to us.

"Hello, Bruce!" Dad greeted him.

Bruce grinned. "Hello," he said in a smooth voice. "It's been a long time, Thomas." And he and Dad shook hands.

"It has," my parents said. Me? I just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to the Prince of Gotham.

At last, about a hundred years later, Bruce noticed me. "And this must be Annie," he smiled, and we shook hands.

"M-my real name's Annalia. Annalia Mabel Gaylewood," I stammered. Man, Mr. Wayne was a hottie. I bet girls chased him everywhere. "I go by Annie. And I'm 12 years old."

"I go by Bruce. Mr. Wayne is too formal," Bruce replied. I laughed, thinking of prissy rich people calling everybody Mr. and Mrs.

"Say, you're kind of cute," he praised me. "A cute little kid. That's what you are."

"Hey! I'm not little!"

"Your size says otherwise," he said smoothly.

"Ohhh, you are so dead," I threatened. He laughed.

"I would _love _to experience a twelve-year-old girl beating me up, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be _fair_," Bruce said calmly. He ruffled my hair. "See you around, kid."

"Yeah," I murmured dreamily. "See you around." And then he was gone, leaving me with a silly grin on my face.

* * *

A/N: Special thanks to Lasgalendil for helping me improve my writing!


	5. Bat Apprehends Crime Boss

_Now you're probably bored out of your skull and waiting for the epic turning point. Don't worry, it's right around the corner._

I woke up with a sniffle and a yawn. It was Saturday! I decided to make pancakes. As I was measuring everything out, something caught my eye. I put down my measuring cups and went over. It was a newspaper headline. I picked up the paper with my flour-covered hands, and my mouth fell open.

"_**Bat apprehends crime** **boss!**_" it said. There was a picture of a big guy dressed as a bat-and according to the article, he put_ Carmine__ Falcone_,the biggest crime lord in Gotham, behind bars. "I'm gonna find this guy, and give him a big sloppy kiss!" I exclaimed. "Yes, me too," Mom yawned as she and Dad stumbled in. "Hey!" Dad protested. "I'm kidding," Mom laughed. "But good for him for taking action."

"Yep," Dad agreed, as Mom helped me make the pancakes. "One man, helping his city. It's inspiring."

"Yeah," I said absently. I was thinking of something. Something that could help save Gotham and would give me something to do over the summer.


	6. I Get the Idea

_It could work...but how? _I ate my last bite of pancake and asked to be excused.

In my room, I brooded over the thought. _What if...what if__** I**__ become a superhero-vigilante like the Batman? It's_ _perfect!_

I thought some more, and began to write out a plan. It looked a little something like this:

_**Operation Kick Butt and Save Gotham**_

_1. Tell my parents about it _

_2. Learn to fight, train_

_3. Come up with a name_

_4. Get a costume, start helping people_

_5. Find the Batman and kick his crimefighting butt clear into the middle of New Zealand_

_6. Save Gotham(duh)_

About #5, I didn't know how skilled Batman was back then. I just thought he was a big buff guy whom I could take down with enough training, and _why _I wanted to defeat him? Well, if I had to say, it would be because I was trying to prove something, and also because I'm rash and bold by nature. Y'know, always starting things I can't finish. Heh, heh.


	7. Barbara Gordon

Then I mentally slapped myself and faced reality. "Me? A hero?" I scoffed. "Yeah, right, like that would ever happen. I've been drinking too much soda."

Oh, come on! my hopeful, optimistic self pleaded. I know you can do it!

Good point, I thought. Well, I can't promise anything. I guess I'll go think for a bit.

I told my parents I was going for a walk, and set out.

I strolled through the city, trying to appear cool, so as not to get jumped or mugged or something. I walked far away, away from my ridiculously corrupt city, away from the smog and fumes, away from everything.

Soon, I was in the middle of rolling hills. I saw the rosy glow of a sunset. I sat and enjoyed the view.

Then I felt something hit my arm, and I stumbled back with a cry. I looked down to see an arrow sticking in my arm. "Huh?" I pulled it out and looked up to see the attacker.

A girl with long, curled red hair was standing up on a small hill with a bow and arrow aimed at me. She looked about sixteen.

"What are you doing here?" she said harshly.

I was surprised by her tone. "Uh, I'm just thinking, that's all," I said.

"About what?" she snapped. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm Annie," I stammered. "This is going to sound stupid, but I wanted to be a hero and save Gotham. My city. But that's impossible."

Strangely, she didn't laugh. She watched me for a minute.

"Maybe it's possible," she said thoughtfully. Then her voice grew authoritative. "Meet me here tomorrow after school, Annie. I think I know what to do."

"Are you sure?" I really did want to be a hero.

"I'm sure," she said calmly. "Look, I'm Barbara. Barbara Gordon. If you really want to be a hero, come here again. If anyone asks, the police commissioner's daughter sent you." And she turned to leave.

I smiled. I liked Barbara. "Thanks!" I called.

"Don't mention it!" she replied.

When I got home, my parents asked where I'd been. I told them about Barbara, but not about how she could help me become a hero.


	8. Training

The next day after school, I told my parents that Barbara was training me to defend myself. They said I could go, but no farther than where I'd been when I met her.

* * *

I ran into the beautiful mountains and saw Barbara practicing archery. She noticed me.

"Come on," she said, and walking off, motioned for me to follow her. I ran after the redhead.

Then we reached more mountains and hills. When we were there, she suddenly whirled around and kicked me in the gut.

"Huh?" I sputtered, stumbling back. Why did Barbara hurt me?

"You want to be a hero, right? Then you have to learn to fight," Barbara said surely. "Annie, criminals are always gonna give you a bunch of crap. If you'll excuse my French. They don't give a rat's butt about you, me, or any of the good people. They just want to piss people off and act like jerks." Then she helped me up.

"Now I'll teach you how to fight, really fight." And in that day, I learned how to do a roundhouse kick, and how to punch stuff. :)

* * *

For two months after that, every day, I trained hard with Barbara. She was four years older than me, but she understood everything, and we laughed and joked a lot. I think of her as my best friend.

April and May flew by, and before I knew it, school was over. On the last day of school, we had a party. Then at five pm, long after sixth grade had ended, I decided to visit Barbara.

"Hey!" I called, seeing her hunched down near a tree.

She urgently put a finger to her lips and made the shh sound. I shut up.

Then she put down a laptop and came over.

"I think you're ready," she whispered.

"Really?" I was giddy.

"Yeah." She led me into a cave, after getting her laptop.

"What do you want to be?" she asked.

I thought. "I want to be a cat," I declared. I love cats. Enough said.

Barbara led me to a room.

"A cat costume," she said triumphantly. "First, a flexible catsuit that's waterproof, shock-proof, doesn't rip apart, and a lot more. Gloves that appear normal but have a nasty surprise inside." And she did a hand motion to reveal claws that retracted. Just like a cat.

She kept talking. "An eye mask to help hide your identity. A frying pan to knock enemies unconscious, a whip to 'whip' criminals into shape. Special flats that don't make noise. Real-looking cat ears. And much more." She put everything into boxes and handed it all to me to take home. I thanked her and left.

It was time. I, Annalia, was going to save Gotham City.


	9. I Help 2 Kids

**A/N: There are some curse words in this chapter, like 'f**k' and 'sh*t', so you probably shouldn't read this if you don't like those words.**

**See, I wanted to write how Annie felt on her first mission, so yeah. Hope I described it well!**

**Well, enjoy! :)**

* * *

It was nighttime that day when I went on my first hero mission.

In the privacy of my room, I opened the sack and put on my costume. There were a _lot _of sets of it. _Where does she get all this stuff?_

"Cat-Girl. Catgirl. It's perfect!" I exclaimed.

I looked in a small mirror. I had long, straight brown hair, shining blue eyes, and white skin. _Not very heroic. But I guess it doesn't matter._

Then I jumped out the window-and nearly died-to fight crime as the awesome Catgirl.

* * *

Running through the streets, I laughed. I liked this job. I liked it. The freedom, the adventure, saving people, beating up criminals! I couldn't wait for all of it to start! Folks, this was my dream job!

"Holy shit, who's she?"

I turned to see a bunch of guys staring at me with their mouths open.

I grinned. "Shut up!" I called giddily, and continued running.

"Shit..." one guy muttered. "A kid dressed like a fucking cat. What's next, Superman?"

I ignored his cursing and continued to tear through Gotham with a big smile on my face. My suit was kind of tight and I felt strange, almost naked, but I didn't care. _Crimefighting,_ _here_ _I_ _come_!

* * *

I rushed to a building and began to climb it using my claws. "Don't worry, Gotham, I'll save you," I whispered. "How? I wish I knew..."

Then I heard sniffling. "Huh?" I murmured, and climbed down.

The sniffling turned to wailing. I saw two kids bawling their heads off.

"Hey," I said, feeling sorry for them. "What's wrong?"

"We can't find our mom!" one of them, a blond boy, wailed. "We're lost!" the other one, a dark-haired girl, added tearfully. They started bawling again.

_Poor things_, I thought. "Do you know your address?" I asked gently. "Yeah, but we can't drive!" the boy choked out.

I got an idea. "Taxi!" I called, and stuck my hand out. A yellow taxi pulled up. The driver stuck his head out the window. "Yeah, whaddya need?"

"These kids are lost. They need to get home," I explained. "You got money?" the driver drawled lazily.

_**Oh, shoot**. _I was broke! Ironically, the boy saved the day. Grinning now, he pulled some rumpled dollar bills from his pocket. "These are in case I ever got to ride a cab," he proclaimed proudly. "You. Are. Awesome," I replied.

"Please come with us!" the girl begged. "Well, okay," I reluctantly agreed.

Needless to say, the kids got home safely and all was well. Or so I thought.

I thanked the driver and got out to go fight crime, when I heard a terrified yell. And I knew exactly who it was.


	10. Let Him Go: I Meet the Batman

**_Dad!_**

"_Father_!" I shouted, and began running for home. "Father! Father! Dad!" I cried, pushing past surprised people. _When I find out who did this, he'll be dead in a minute!_

I found Dad in a dark alley with a random criminal.

"_Where are they?! Where are they?! Tell me now!" _the criminal bellowed, and aimed a gun to Dad's head.

"I have no idea, Flass! I swear to God!" Dad cried.

That did it. No one assaulted my father like that. I stepped forward.

* * *

_**"Let him go!"**_ I yelled.

* * *

Flass turned. Dad stared at me.

"Did you _hear _me? I said, let him go!" I snarled.

Flass came towards me. He was kind of fat and not very threatening, but the fact that he had a gun was enough to scare me a little.

"If you don't obey me, there will be dead bodies," Flass hissed, and before I could blink, he had me in a stranglehold with a gun to my head.

"Shut up!" I screamed, and tried some karate on him to let me go. No use.

Then I heard a voice. A growly, rumbly, scratchy voice that sounded like someone had been smoking too many cigars.

"You better let go of the girl, Flass."

Before I knew it, Flass was out cold. Dad ran home, and I was left alone. Well, not alone, exactly.

A man was standing in front of me. He was tall and had big muscles, and he was dressed...like a bat? Wait a second!

* * *

"Is it you?" I whispered. Holding up my frying pan, I advanced closer. "Who are you?"

The man looked at me. Then he ran off.

"Hey!" I shouted, and began to chase him. "Hey! I'm _talking _to you! Answer me, whoever you are!"

Suddenly, I felt something tie my legs together, and I fell onto the cold, hard, wet pavement.

"Ow!" I felt pain tear through my cheek. I looked up to see him climbing a building.

"Aarggh!" I screamed, trying to break free and follow him, but to no avail. Oh, I was no good with ropes. Or anything street-smart, for that matter.

Then I saw that man climb down and walk towards me.

He bent down and started untying the rope that bound my legs together, muttering some other language to himself while he did it. Probably French. Or Spanish? I dunno.

"There, you're free," he grunted at last. "Go home, kid. This is no place for children."

I jumped up.

"Hey, stop it!" I exclaimed. "I can do anything you can do! And I'm a better hero, too!"

He stared at me for a long time, with a look on his face that suggested he was trying not to burst out laughing. Then he spoke.

"Seriously?" he growled flatly. "You have _got _to be kidding me. But then, what do you expect from a little kid who thinks she knows everything?"

Now I was really mad. Not caring how big and buff the Batman was, I got right up into his face.

"Are you serious? I do not think I know everything. You're just a stupid insult to old people who thinks _he _knows everything!" I screamed. "Now shut your trap before I do it for you!"

The Batman stared at me again. Then he couldn't control himself, and burst into hysterical laughter.

"Um, are you feeling okay?" I was getting worried.

"Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!" he laughed. "For the love of all that is holy, shut _your _trap before I die laughing! 'A stupid insult to old people'. That's the most ridiculous comeback I've ever heard! What are you, ten? And you honestly think you can fight me? Gah, that's too much!" And he fell over on his back, still laughing.

"Um, sir, maybe you should..."

"Oh, _now _you're sucking up to me and calling me 'sir', huh? First off, you should be quaking in a corner and screaming your lungs out. I'm the Batman, for crying out loud! Second...oh, I'm out of ideas."

The Batman, who was apparently insane, finally stopped laughing and got up, still gasping a little.

I was now completely livid. "Think you can laugh at me, huh? Well, you're in for a big surprise!" I threw a punch at him.

What he did next was so weird, I have no words for it.

Basically, he calmly blocked my punch, then lifted me up the air and flipped me over his back, sending me flying into a couple of boxes.

"Yeee-_ouch_!" I yelled as I tried to move my arm. It was hurting like heck, just like the rest of me. Gritting my teeth in pain, I looked up to see him..yawn. Yes, he _yawned_, as if it was so easy to defeat me that it was boring.

Then I heard footsteps.

"Here." I looked up-again-to see _him_, extending his hand towards me. "Ouch!" I cried as I grabbed his hand. "That hurts!"

"This is life, shit happens," he said, pulling me up. "You know what you are? You're a wannabe with a big ego."

"What's an ego?" I moaned.

"Uh...it's complicated. Wait, did you say something about you being a hero?"

"Ow! Yep," I groaned. "This is my first mission." I smiled a little in pride.

"Yeah, I saw you with a couple of kids. You're all right, but you could do better."

_Wow! The Batman thinks I'm okay! _I thought. Maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

* * *

"Okay, you cat-person...whoever you are, we need to go over some ground rules," Batman said. And he was gone.

"Hey!" I called. "Where are you?"

Right then, I heard screaming, fighting, and then he was back with a big blackboard.

"I got this from a couple of criminals. Don't judge me." He grimaced in apparent pain, then pushed the board to where I could see it.

* * *

"Rule Number One: I am the Batman, and I am always right," Batman growled. He scrawled this on the board with some chalk.

I actually laughed out loud. "Ha-ha! You're hilarious!"

"Shut up and let me talk," he growled. "Rule Number Two: I know everything, so always do exactly as I say." He wrote that, too.

"That's even funnier!" I laughed.

"Okay, now we're getting serious." I immediately shut up and put a very serious expression on my face. "Rule Number Three: Never sneak off without telling me, and never go somewhere when I clearly tell you to stay away from that place."

"Uh-huh." It looked like he actually liked me! I was starting to like him, too.

"Rule Number Four: When we order a snack, whatever you do, _never _complain that your parents never order that stuff."

"But what if they don't?" I asked.

"_Silence!_" he thundered. I immediately shut up-again.

"Rule Number Five: _Do not _fight crime by yourself. You're a kid! If you get thrown around too much, you'll die."

"But I work solo," I said.

He sighed. "Okay, you can do it alone, but when I'm around, do it with me. Capeesh?"

I laughed. "Yep!"

"You're too happy for my taste. Something is definitely wrong in that little heart of yours," Batman muttered.

My eyes widened. Was there? I shook the thought away. I'd think about it later.

"Rule Number Six: We must have a professional relationship. I know you're very emotional and probably want to be my best friend, but I have work to do. We must be partners, not just comrades."

"Sure, that sounds cool." For some reason, even though I was only 12 years old, I perfectly understood what he was saying. Was it my supposed smartness at work? "Oh, and I'm not a cat-person. I'm Catgirl."

"Nice. Well, that's all," Batman said. And he was gone.

I smiled. "Couldn't have said goodbye, could you?" I called, and ran off. I liked him. I really did.


	11. Babs

When I got up, after a slice of toast and a glass of orange juice, my parents made me wear my best dress, put on makeup(very little, mind you), and take a bath and groom myself to look fresh and nice. Mr. James Gordon, the police commissioner, was visiting!

When I was ready, my parents and I went into the living room.

A very official-looking man wearing a suit and tie with brown hair and a brown mustache was sitting on a chair in the center of the room. This must be Commissioner Gordon. I recognized the girl next to him all too well-Barbara Gordon! I grinned at her.

"Good afternoon, Commissioner Gordon, sir," I said politely.

"Good afternoon, Annie. Is that right?" he said. I nodded. "This is my daughter, Barbara." And he gestured to you-know-who.

"Hi," she said sullenly. I wondered why.

"Now, why don't you two girls go make friends?" Mom smiled, and ushered us out of the room. If I craned my ears, I could hear Commissioner Gordon talking to my parents about how corrupt Gotham had become.

When we were out of sight, we shrieked and hugged each other.

We pulled away and started babbling about girl talk.

"Sorry if I was a dirtbag back there," Barbara apologized. "I just had this ridiculously long library internship in the summer because Dad wants me to be well-rounded and all that rhetoric, so I'm pretty tired."

"Internship? You mean a job? In the summer? Ouch!" I exclaimed, and gave her a sympathetic pat on the back.

Barbara laughed in that way that was just so Barbara: loud and brash, and unafraid. "It's okay. It was just shelving books and stuff."

"Wow," I said. "It's so cool that your dad's a cop! I bet whenever anyone bothers you, you just say your dad's gonna put them in jail!"

"Yeah, but most people at my school don't care, because they're in gangs," she sighed.

The two of us talked for a while. Then Barbara said we should go play our favorite Nintendo games. And we did.


	12. Batman's POV

**Meanwhile, in the Batcave...**

The Dark Knight pondered the girl he'd just met. _Catgirl._

She was a strange girl-sarcastic and witty, yet with a shy, sweet side. "She seems very musical," Batman muttered. He wouldn't be surprised if she could sing.

The Batman didn't hate her-not by a long shot. But he didn't like her very much, either.

Batman knew why she'd wanted to beat him in a fight. He remembered himself at 22, a very young age-wanting to shoot the murderer of his parents dead. He knew how rash young people could be. It had only been the love of his life, Rachel Dawes, who had stopped him from becoming a ruthless killer. "Rachel..." the Dark Knight murmured.

Batman remembered the girl he'd met at his party a few nights ago-Annie. She didn't know just who he really was.

And then, he had it. He knew who she was.

* * *

_Catgirl's real name was Annalia Mabel Gaylewood. _

* * *

It made perfect sense. She looked just like Annie-same long, straight brown hair, same shining blue eyes, same features. And they had the exact same voice. "Women are so careless," Batman muttered. Catgirl clearly hadn't taken precautions to disguise her frickin' voice.

Batman knew what he'd do. The next time he and the young heroine met, he'd scare the crap out of her by telling her that he knew her true identity.


	13. An Epic Ride

When we were done gaming, we had no idea what to do.

Then Barbara grinned devilishly.

"Want to see something cool?" she asked. "Do you have a motorcycle?"

"Oh, yeah!" I replied. "It's my dad's."

Before I knew it, we were flying down the busy streets of Gotham full speed ahead on Dad's precious motorcycle, Crimson Racer. (Mom added the crimson part.)

"Barbara!" I yelled, as we narrowly missed a car. "Are you sure about this?!"

"YEAH,BABY!" Barbara shouted, and went faster.

"Our parents are gonna kill us!" I shouted back, trying to be heard over the city noises. "Although this is pretty awesome!"

"Of course it is! Because I'm Barbara Gordon!" Barbara replied loudly. "Don't worry, we'll be fine!"

Then I heard a voice.

"Barbara! Barbara! Watch out, or you're gonna slam into that-"

CRASH!

"-tree," Batman said resignedly.

"Oh, hi!" I said brightly. Or as brightly as you could talk when a motorcycle's lying on top of you. "How's the old being-Batman-ness coming along?" Sure, I'd stop wisecracking. As soon as I got out from under Dad's prized vehicle. Maybe then my whole body would stop hurting.

"Shut up, bitch!" Batman growled. "Quit being a smartass!"

Then he lifted the motorcycle off us and helped us up. Naturally, it was very painful.

"You know him?" Barbara asked, shocked. "Oh, yeah!" I replied happily. "I heard about him!"

"You did?" Batman said in mock surprise. By the way, Batman's a really bad actor. Don't tell him I said that. Any idiot could tell that something was up.

"Batman, are you OK?" Barbara asked, looking a little creeped out. "You're acting a little crazy."

"Of course I'm OK!" Batman shouted. "I'm just pissed. Barbara, how many times do I have to tell you not to do stupid-ass things? You're grounded for a week!"

"That's not fair!" Barbara yelled. "Can I at least be grounded with Nightwing?"

Who? I thought.

Batman sighed. "Fine, you're not grounded," he growled. "How about I just get you home to James Gordon and we'll pretend this never happened?"

"Don't worry, I know the way," I piped up cheerfully. I grabbed Barbara's arm. "Come on, Babs!" And we took the motorcycle home.


	14. Batman knows

Barbara and I pushed the door open, laughing our heads off.

"That...was..._epic_!" I panted. "You, ma'am, are awesome!"

"Thanks," Barbara laughed. "You, too."

We declared that we would be BFFs until we kicked the bucket, then gave each other a best-friends-forever hug, and then Barbara had to leave.

"Bye!" I called as she left.

* * *

That night, I left a note and suited up to fight crime.

After whooping some criminal butt and saving some children, I decided to go find the biggest crime gang in town: Maroni's mob.

I was getting close to their hiding place when I heard a familiar voice.

* * *

"Morning, Annalia Mabel Gaylewood."

* * *

"Oh, morning, Bat-hey, _wait a second_!" I shouted.

Seeing Batman crouching calmly behind me with a triumphant smirk on his face, I grabbed the nearest stick and pointed it at him. "Where'd you get the idea that my name's Annalia?" I demanded. _How does he know my secret identity?_

"Bitch, please, I'm the goddamn Batman. I know everything," Batman growled. "But if seriously, then I deduced it. You and Annie-oh, no." He slapped his hand over his mouth.

"Huh?" I asked, confused. Then it came to me. I'd only met one adult man recently other than Dad, and that was...

I grinned devilishly. "Hi,**Mr. Wayne**," I said slyly.

"I am not!" Batman growled, looking offended.


	15. No more boring stuff

"Oh!" Batman exclaimed. "Bruce Wayne and I are acquaintances, and he told me about Annie, so I figured it had to be you."

For some unknown reason, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Then we went to go fight crime.


	16. Breaking News

I know this is boring. I know you wanted to read something epic instead of my preteen angst. Don't worry, it's gonna get good now.

* * *

On Saturday, I was flipping through my sixth grade yearbook, smiling at the positive comments and signatures.

_I wonder if Batman ever signed yearbooks_, I thought. _Probably not._

__I turned on the TV and looked for my favorite show. Then, I saw "breaking news" on the screen.

"According to a Gotham family, a young cat-girl saved their children," the anchor announced. "It appears that there is another costumed crusader in the city. The question is, what's her moral stance? Is she good or evil? Back to you, Susan."

I knew it was about me. I was happy to be in the news, but nervous, too.


	17. Bruce Wayne POV

**Batman's POV**

_Meanwhile in Wayne Manor.._

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, setting a tray of bacon and mashed potatoes down in front of the billionaire. "I implore you, sir, as to what you are so intrigued by that you would ignore bacon and mashed potatoes."

"Lose the formal mumbo-jumbo, Alfred," Bruce mumbled, pushing a lock of brown hair out of his eyes. "There's a girl in the news doing the same thing as me-fighting crime."

"Looks like you've finally achieved your goal of becoming an incorruptible symbol, Master Bruce," Alfred smiled, and left.

"Yeah, whatever," Bruce muttered, and continued to stare at the TV.

He remembered meeting Catgirl, and was sure it was Annie behind the mask.

Bruce wasn't sure what to think. Part of him felt like a proud father, even though he barely knew Annie, but part of him wanted to burst out laughing and tell all his friends. Oh, wait-he had none.


	18. Thomas C Gaylewood

**Catgirl's POV**

* * *

I was out fighting crime as Catgirl one day when I heard something. I pressed up behind a building and peered out to see.

* * *

Two guys who looked like eighth graders were laughing at an old man and throwing rocks at him. Don't ask me why. Some people are just jerks.

I stepped in front of the man, who looked like he was about to fall off his walker.

"Back off," I snapped at the boys.

* * *

They stared at me, and then the tallest one laughed. "Who's gonna make us? You, you little kid? Maybe learn to dress like a normal person and not like a freak show before you yell at us! Halloween was last year!" he jeered, cracking up.

"Sure, I'm gonna make you," I said coolly, then punched two of them in the jaw and kicked the tallest guy in the stomach, sending him flying.

* * *

"What the hell? It's just some old guy," they croaked in unison. "Just some old guy? Old people are awesome. Show some respect!" I snapped, and went to help the old man up.

"Thank you," the old man rasped when he was up again. "You're a good little woman. Thomas C. Gaylewood would be proud."

"You know Thomas C. Gaylewood?" I was surprised.

"Of course!" the old man exclaimed. "We were roommates in college. That man, he was such a daredevil. Didn't give a damn about health food, always eating bacon and potatoes. But he was quite the comic on campus."

I smiled. "Yeah," I said. "He was really funny. But he died." I felt sad.

"Ah, yes," he sighed. "I heard it was murder. Thomas was a great person. If I could decide, the murderer would get death!"

The old man hobbled off, and I left too.

* * *

Thomas C. Gaylewood was my grandfather, my father's dad. I think it's easy to tell.

I called him Grandpa, never Thomas C. Gaylewood. Grandpa was the epitome of greatness to me-kind, funny, strong, brave, and always ready to live and take risks. But three years ago, a masked assassin-_a useless **bastard** who deserves nothing less severe than roasting in Hell forever is more like it_-shot him dead. To this day, I remember the shot, the blood, Grandpa groaning on the floor, and Dad shouting every cuss word in the book at the assassin. Grandpa died. He was so tough, but he was broken. And by who? A stupid killer whom no one cares about.

Dad had been trying to get the court to give the murderer death, but they didn't give a flea's eye about Grandpa.

There will never be another Thomas C. Gaylewood. Never.


	19. Craziness

I thought about Grandpa as I fought crime. He always talked about the 1950s and how bad it was now. I wanted to go back in time to the fifties, even though there was sexism back then.

The 1950s reminded me of the South. I should know. I have _really _strong roots there. I'd been working on a Southern accent, and I could use one on command. We ate Southern food all the time, and Grandpa was crazy about pork chops. He didn't believe in health food or vegetable juice. He outlived most of his doctors. :)

* * *

That was when something crazy happened. I went back home, got out of my costume, and...

My parents were gone.


	20. Whaat!

I looked all over the house. Under the bed, outside, in the bathroom, even in the kitchen sink! It was no use.

My parents were gone.

Then, I saw a black car drive up. I ran out to see.

* * *

An old man rolled down the window and looked at me. "Mistress Annie. I've been expecting you."

I was so freaked out, I felt like I was gonna die. What was this old guy doing here? And how did he know my name?

"I am Alfred J. Pennyworth," the old man said. "Stay calm, your parents arranged this. Get your things and come."

Open-mouthed, I did what he said.

* * *

"I know this is very surprising," Alfred said calmly as we drove. "To put it bluntly, your parents were hired by the government. They said that if they cannot care for you, you will stay with Bruce Wayne."

I stared. My parents worked for the government ? I was going to stay with _Bruce Wayne_? I felt like I was dreaming.


	21. Wayne Manor

Alfred parked at a grand, majestic, and huge house. We both got out.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "I'm staying _here_? This place is awesome!"

"It gets better. Bruce Wayne is quite the heartthrob," Alfred replied. "A little girl like you will go crazy over him."

_I already have,_ I thought as we went inside.

* * *

Alfred led me into a big pink room first. "Your room," he said, and I put my stuff down on the bed.

Then he took me to Mr. Wayne.

"Master Bruce," he called.

"Yeah?" Bruce called back.

* * *

"The girl came," Alfred replied.

"It's about time!" Bruce's exasperated voice sounded. "Where has she been? It gets lonely down here all by myself!"


	22. Bruce Wayne

Bruce staggered out wrapped in a bathrobe, rubbing his eyes. My heart raced so hard, it could have outrun a cheetah. I was only twelve years old, but I _wanted _Bruce. I liked him. A lot.

Bruce grinned down at me. I almost fainted.

"Annie," he said. "Well, this is going to be quite an adventure! You're staying with me. But first, quit blushing. Every girl I know wants me-except Rachel." He sighed and his eyes clouded for a moment. Then he composed himself and took my small hand in his big one. I nearly fainted-again. "Come on," he said, and showed me around.

"Who's Rachel?" I asked. "It's a long story," he said. "Actually, she's a friend from my childhood."


	23. RACHEL!

It had gotten close to dusk then, so Bruce took me up to my room. "You'd better sleep early. A growing girl like you needs as much sleep as she can get," he said, and closed the door.

_Huh? _I'd barely been in Mr. Wayne's house for a minute, and he was already treating me like an old friend. Eh, I wasn't gonna complain. I was starting to like him, too.

It was only 7:05, so I explored the room. I saw a small chest.

I opened it, and saw that it had belonged to a woman. I saw a date on there: January 21st, 1950. She lived in the fifties.

There was a small book in the chest. I flipped open to a random page, and began to read.

Dear Melinda,

Well, I'll be damned! I'm getting married soon, to Thomas. A wonderful, wonderful man. I never really thought something like this would happen to me, being so frumpy and all! But I do love Tom so. I wouldn't be able to live if something happened to him.

Melinda, I'm so afraid that something will go horribly wrong. I do hope it all goes well, like on television. Television is such a new craze. Everybody has one!

Oh! Mother is calling. I must go.

Sincerely,

Martha Wayne

I couldn't believe it. Bruce Wayne's mom wrote this? No wonder it was the fifties. Bruce Wayne's mom must be really old! Where was she now?

I ran to find Bruce. I saw him waiting for someone at the door.

"Mr. Wayne," I panted. I held out the book. "I think this is your mother's book. So my room must be your mother's room. Where is she now?"

For the first time since we met, Bruce Wayne looked angry. His eyes hardened, and he looked like he was going to beat me up. But before he could say anything, someone knocked on the door. Bruce unlocked it.

A woman threw the door open and stood there with a no-nonsense look on her face.

She had long straight brown hair like me, but her eyes were brown instead of blue. And she was much taller than me. She was wearing a white blouse and a black knee-length skirt, black high heels, and she was holding a jacket in the crook of her arm.

"Rachel," Bruce said in surprise. He seemed happy to see her.

Wait a darn minute. Rachel?

"Bruce, where's the DNA?" Her voice was harsh but direct.

Bruce looked scared. "Oh, that. I have it." And he rushed off.

I was angry at her for talking to Bruce like that. "Why did you..." I started to say. She looked down at me.

"Oh, morning, I didn't see you," she muttered flatly. "Annie, right? Alfred called and said a girl named Annie was coming here. That's you, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Why is Bruce so scared of you?" I asked.

"I keep him in line," Rachel replied. "And you, don't piss me off, or-" Her hand moved to her waist.

A gun was tucked there. I gulped as shivers ran down my spine, remembering Grandpa's death.

"Y-you wouldn't," I stammered. "I would," she said sharply. "Well, okay, I wouldn't, unless you tried to kill me or my loved ones or something," she added in a more lighthearted tone.

I smiled. I liked Rachel. "Are you Mr. Wayne's girlfriend?" I asked. "You could say that," she grinned. "But we're having relationship problems right now."

Girlfriend! I thought. That's it! She's going down...

Then Mr. Wayne came back, grabbed Rachel's hand, and led her away. I sighed and went up to my room.

I saw a picture of a piano and thought of my guitar. I got it out, tuned it, and decided to play a bunch of random chords.

When I finally got tired, Rachel had to leave.

"Goodbye," she said. "You're a very talented musician." And she left, leaving me staring as if she had a huge stain on her shirt.


	24. Bruce Wayne's POV: Annalia

**Batman's POV**

* * *

Bruce Wayne looked at his watch. 8:29.

He looked at the girl next to him. Annie. "Go to bed," he ordered.

"Awww!" She did a mock pout. "I wanted to do something fun!" But she ran upstairs to her room-his mother's room.

Bruce pondered the girl. She seemed like a good person-one of the few good people in this city. He'd taken a liking to her.

"I'll show you more tomorrow!" he called up to Annalia.

Annalia. What a pretty name.


	25. My Decision

I was faced with a dilemma that night. I had my costume and wanted to fight crime, and I'll shamelessly admit that I wanted to see Batman again. Who doesn't? But I didn't want to lie to Bruce Wayne. Not after all he'd done for me.

"Oh, what to do..." I muttered, pacing the floor.

I decided to fight crime. I left a note saying I was going for a walk, then suited up and left.

I watched over Gotham, looking for crime and for Batman. Then I saw him standing on the roof of a building. For some reason, I was really happy to see him.

"Morning!" I called cheerfully, waving.

"It's not morning, dumbass," Batman growled.

"My name is Catgirl, and wash your mouth out already! Geez!" I complained.

"I tell you what to do, not the other way around," Batman retorted. "Damn, women these days."

"Gee, thanks a lot," I said sarcastically, but in a playful way.

Batman turned to look at me. "Don't thank me," he growled. "Look, you-Catgirl, I watch TV. I saw you on the news. You can't beat me. You just can't. End of story. I know things you can't even dream about. So quit acting like you're all that because you happen to want to save this place. Is that even what you want?"

That was it. I was tired of him. Tired of him always belittling me and acting as if I was some slime he'd stepped in.

"Of course it is!" I shouted, trying not to cry. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Was it? Did I really want to help, or did I just want to beat people up? "Stop it, you jerk!" I yelled at him, sobbing like a baby.

I sniffled slightly and wiped my tears away, pondering what Batman had said.

I felt a dark presence near me, and smelled cologne. I looked up.

Batman was looking at me, but not angrily. His features were a mix of concern, pain, and bewilderment.

"Don't cry," he growled calmly. Almost gently.

I gaped at him, surprised. I wiped the last of my tears away, and realized my nose was running. Great.

"Here," Batman growled, and handed me a tissue. I thanked him and wiped my nose.

"Why are you helping me? I called you a jerk," I said to him.

Batman was quiet for a moment, then spoke. "I have no idea," he said back. "Because you're cute?"

I swear my face looked like a brown-haired, blue-eyed tomato then. It was that red. Batman thought I was cute? The Batman, in all his epic glory, thought I was cute? Folks, this was officially my lucky day! I stared at Batman with this annoyingly huge grin on my face.

"Not that kind of cute, bitch!" Batman growled. "I've dated women much prettier than you. Although you are kind of pretty. I meant your attitude is cute."

"How?" I was kind of ticked off.

"The way you act," he growled. "Especially you wanting to beat me. That was so damn cute, it was all I could do not to take a picture and post it on J. Gordon+."

"You know that social media thingy?" This guy knew everything.

"Of course I do!" Batman bellowed. "I know everything."

"Suuure you do," I grinned.

"Don't be a smartass, Catgirl," Batman warned. "Just because you're cute doesn't mean I won't kick your ass into Australia."


	26. Alfred J Pennyworth

"Riiight," I said. Suddenly, I heard something. Batman grabbed my arm. "Quiet!" he hissed. I shut up immediately. Turns out it was just a couple of street thugs.

* * *

Batman and I fought them. Then I said goodbye and went straight back to Wayne Manor, where I climbed in through the window as quietly as possible, got out of my costume, stashed it in the back of my closet, and in an old T-shirt and pants, got into bed.

**A/N: The reason Bruce Wayne doesn't ask where Annie was is because he deduced her identity, so he knew she was talking to him that night. Happy Reading! **

* * *

My eyes blinked open. I sat up and yawned. I really needed to sleep earlier. I looked at the alarm clock. Five a.m. That was just messed up.

I decided to proceed with my morning routine. I got out of bed, brushed my teeth, changed into some clean pants and a clean shirt, and pulled a comb through my long, tangled brown hair. I realized that my hair had become much more wavy over the past few weeks, and the comb didn't remove the wave. Just as well. I liked it, and my hair was still reasonably straight.

When I was ready, I realized I was kind of bored. I didn't know what to do, so I decided to sneak around Wayne Manor.

I tiptoed out of my room and began to stroll around the gargantuan house.

I couldn't believe how big it was! I wondered how Mr. Wayne didn't go insane from loneliness. "This is pretty awesome," I said aloud.

"Oh? That's nothing. You must see the rest of it."

I gasped and whirled around to face Alfred J. Pennyworth.

"M-Mr. Pennyworth?" I stammered. "How-"

"Please, call me Alfred, Mistress Annie," Alfred said calmly. "What brings you here so early?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "I was away last night..."

"Don't fret, we knew where you were," Alfred said in that same cool tone.

Did he know about...no. I shook away the thought. I'd only been here about half a day. How would this man know about my hero career?


	27. Why I Am Working Like A Dog At Five AM

I composed myself.

"Well, I was away last night, went to bed at midnight, and I got up this early and figured I'd explore," I said with some formality.

"You simply must see the kitchen," Alfred exclaimed.

The kitchen? Suddenly I had an idea. "Alfred, what does Bruce like to eat?" I asked.

"Bruce eats lots of meat and dairy. Keeps a man strong," Alfred answered. Then his eyes widened. "I think I just gave Mistress Annie an idea. Oh,no."

"Yes, you did," I grinned, and rushed into the kitchen.

* * *

The Wayne kitchen was marvelous, but I didn't pay much attention. I had work to do.

* * *

"Okay, meat and dairy," I muttered, pacing the floor. "Cooking is practically my middle name. I should be able to cook better than one of Mr. Wayne's professional chefs or something."

I've loved cooking since I was nine. I was more of a baker and still am, but lately I'd been trying out things that didn't need an oven.

"I've got it!" I cried. "Barbecue chicken and blueberry pancakes! Perfect!" And I got to work.

I peeked in an old drawer and found a thick recipe book that looked like it was from the 1800s. Paging through it, I peered at a recipe for barbecue chicken. "I can do this," I murmured.

When I had everything out, I realized something. I had no idea how to slice a chicken.

Alfred came in. "Leave it to me, Mistress Annie," he said calmly, and began to expertly slice the chicken. Soon, he had formed many chicken legs just begging to be baked, covered in barbecue sauce, and eaten.

"Thanks!" I exclaimed.

"Just doing my job," Alfred smiled, and left.

* * *

I put the chicken legs on a cookie sheet and slid them into the oven. I turned on the oven and set the timer, and found the recipe for blueberry pancakes.

I was getting out the materials I needed, and went to get 2 eggs and half a cup of milk from the fridge. I opened it and...we had run out.

I stood resolutely and turned towards the door. "ALFRED!" I shouted in a not-so-happy manner.

Alfred hurried into the kitchen. "Yes, Mistress Annie?"

I pointed into the fridge. "I _implore _you, sir, as to why there are no eggs! Or milk! Or anything I can use to make a decent meal!"

* * *

"Annie, is that you? It's five in the morning. Go back to sleep."

Alfred and I turned to see Bruce Wayne come in, yawning. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing his abs. I almost swooned. That's just wrong, I know.

Bruce saw me. He just stared with his mouth open. Then he left.

Alfred showed me where the eggs and milk were. Then he followed Bruce.

As I flipped the pancakes, I heard Bruce arguing with Alfred.

"Alfred, remind me again why our guest is working like a dog at this hour?!" Bruce shouted.

"She's cooking for us. I sliced the chicken," Alfred said, trying to calm down his angry employer.

"You'd better cook the poor girl a big platter of bacon. She's way too skinny!" Bruce warned.

Bacon? My mouth started watering. I love bacon. I gulped down the saliva.

"Don't be so mean to Alfred, Mr. Wayne!" I called. "He's really very nice!"

"I will be as mean as I want to, Annalia," Bruce said coolly. "Alfred's nice? You don't know us at all." He laughed. "I'm kidding."

When I was done with the pancakes and the chicken, I rang a bell and shouted, "Soup's on!"


	28. Breakfast and Batgirl

Bruce and Alfred stepped in. I moved aside and proudly showed them our breakfast like an artist showing off her masterpiece.

Bruce stared at me for a long while. Then he spoke.

* * *

"That's it?" he said flatly.

* * *

I was surprised. I worked really hard to make this! Talk about ungrateful!

Then Bruce said, "Alfred, get the rest of it."

Alfred obediently rolled in a platter of food that put all my hard work to shame.

Roast beef, mashed potatoes, lots of bacon (yum), pork chops, beef ribs, the list goes on...

My mouth watered. Did Bruce always eat this much?

* * *

At the table, Bruce devoured one of my barbecue chicken legs.

"This is delightful! Albeit a bit lean," he praised me.

"Alfred helped a lot," I said modestly.

"I just sliced the chicken," Alfred replied with an equally humble tone.

"You make really good bacon," I commented.

We ate in silence.

"So, how's school?" Bruce said to me.

"It's over!" I exclaimed. "Cool, huh?"

"Yeah," Bruce smiled. Suddenly, somebody banged on the door.

Bruce went to get it. I heard a familiar voice.

"Bruce, have you seen a girl named Annie with brown hair and blue eyes? I can't find her anywhere!" Barbara Gordon cried.

"Hey!" I called. She ran over to see me.

"It's about time!" she said. "I want to tell you something."

Barbara grabbed my arm and told Bruce that her uncle Perry was visiting, or whatever, and took me into the hallway.

"Annie, how's the hero business going along?" she whispered.

"Great!" I said. "I met someone." My head spun and my cheeks burned just thinking of Batman. What's happening to me?

"Really?" Barbara said. "Annie, we've known each other for a month. Do you still have that cat costume?"

I ran and got it.

"Good," she said approvingly, and we ran off to the mountains.

* * *

"I have a secret," Barbara confessed in the cave where I had gotten my costume. "I'm a hero, too-Batgirl."

And she left and came back dressed in a bat costume with her red curls flowing down her back.

"Whoa," I breathed, and ran to change into my costume.

* * *

"Batgirl and Catgirl, the heroic duo!" I announced happily.

* * *

"Hey," Barbara whispered. "It's getting close to dusk. That's when all the criminals come out." She pulled out a phone and dialed a number. "Yeah, Bruce, Annie's with me. Yeah. She's fine. Uh-huh...ok...bye." And she hung up. "Come on," she hissed in delight.


	29. Selina Kyle

Up until then, I'd just been fighting street thugs and saving little kids, so the idea of actually going on a real crime fighting spree had me excited.

"Let's look for trouble," Barbara whispered. I nodded.

Soon, the two of us were sneaking around, checking for criminals.

We ended up in a dark, filthy shop. It was by no means small;it was as big as any other supermarket. But it was dark enough for Barbara and I to stay unseen.

I pressed up against a wall while Barbara crouched on a ledge in a corner. I looked both inside and outside the shop for criminals or people who needed help.

Suddenly, I smelled perfume. A beautiful woman with long brown hair like me and brown eyes walked inside. I tried to remain hidden.

The woman went over to the dresses and held some up, examining them. I kept watching her. I had a bad feeling about her.

Okay, looks normal, I thought.

Then she did something crazy.

She took some dresses, looked at the cashier, who was talking to someone else, and without even paying for the clothes, walked out the door.

A thief! I knew it! I thought.

I decided to follow her. Noiselessly, I leapt down and tiptoed out the open door.

Some guy whistled at the thief. I almost lost my breakfast right there.

I followed the woman into a dark alley.

Then I heard her chuckle. "Ahh, Selina, you did it again," she said triumphantly. "You stole these upper class prizes from right under that dimwit cashier's nose."

That did it. I was a hero and this Selina was a thief. I had to bring her to justice.

Jumping out from where I was, I forced Selina to the ground using a flying tackle.

* * *

"Huh?" She let out a cry.

I snatched the dresses from her.

"These do not belong to you!" I snapped fiercely.

She regained her composure. "Yeah, whatever, like I give a damn about the law," she said with a bitter laugh, and kicked me in the leg. I stumbled back, but regained my balance.

"Never corner a cat, you cop wannabe," she sneered. "Or you'll get scratched." And getting to her feet, she did a roundhouse kick to my shoulder. I ducked just in time and socked her a good one in the jaw.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm Catgirl. Notice the CAT in my name," I replied coolly, and gave Selina a roundhouse kick to her midsection. It sent her flying. "You're not the only cat around here." I felt a thrill run through my body at catching this thief. Now I was Catgirl, the real true Catgirl! The one who whipped criminals' behinds and saved people.

"You don't understand," Selina snapped. "You never would. I steal to survive and to give stupid rich people what they deserve. Stupid rich guys like Bruce Wayne."

I had heard enough. She got to her feet, came towards me, and nearly socked me, but I kneed her in the stomach, punched her, and kicked her in her midsection-again. She jumped out of the way, but I scratched her with my claws. I tackled her to the ground.

"Leave Bruce Wayne alone," I growled in my best Batman voice. "And if you would quit taking other people's things, that would be great, too."

"Spoken like a true self-righteous elitist," Selina snarled. I stiffened.

"Self-righteous? So if I say anything against insulting people you barely know just because they have a lot of money and stealing instead of doing anything remotely useful, I'm a snob?!" I yelled. "Why don't you get off your lazy thieving butt and get a real job, you jerk? Or actually try helping people instead of hurting them? Is that too much to ask?"

* * *

"Exactly. Couldn't have said it better myself."

* * *

I turned, still holding Selina down, to see Rachel, Bruce's girlfriend standing there holding a pair of handcuffs and a gun with the Gotham City Police Force behind her.

"Selina Kyle is the most notorious burglar in Gotham City," Rachel said, walking towards me. "No male cops can arrest her, and if she does get hauled in, she always escapes. Thanks to you, we can get her behind bars again. Thank you."

I blushed, overwhelmed. "No problem," I said, trying not to stutter in amazement. "Just, uh, doing my job."

"I heard about you," Rachel smiled. "You saved children, right? Now you're fighting crime too. Keep up the good work." And she handcuffed Selina Kyle, arguing with her in the process.

When they were gone, I stood alone, proud and amazed. I had beaten the most notorious thief in the city. Now that was heroic.

"There you are!" I turned to see Barbara Gordon.

"Guess what!" I exclaimed. "I helped catch a thief!"

"Selina Kyle," she said. "Yeah, that was pretty awesome!"

* * *

After Barbara Gordon went home, I excitedly ran off to tell Batman all about my adventure.

I came to the building where we met each day and saw him.

"Hi!" I called happily. "Batman, you'll never believe what I did today!"

"It's about time," Batman grunted. "I thought you'd never get here. Now tell me what you did before my legs fall off."

"I caught a criminal!" I shrieked giddily.

"Not so loud!" the Batman hissed. "Go on."

"See, a friend and I were looking for crime, and we ended up in a store. Then this lady came in, and she stole some dresses," I explained in a lower tone. "I followed her and took the dresses back. We fought each other, and then the police arrested her."

Batman was silent. "What was her name?" he asked.

"Selina Kyle," I promptly replied.

"Get out," he said.

"No, it's true!" I insisted.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll let you off," he said.

I blinked, then had an idea.

"Hey!" I said eagerly. "Batman, let's do something fun!"

"Like what?" he growled.

"Uhhh..." I thought. Then I had it. "A staring contest!"

Batman gave me one of his classic Batglares. "Please, you're talking to the master here," he growled. Then he came towards me.

"Ready, set, go," I said. Then we stared at each other for a long time.

To be honest, I could stare at Batman all day. If you know what I mean.

I finally blinked. "Arrggh!" I groaned. "I lost!"

"Told you," Batman said with a half-smile on his face.

I started to leave for home.

"Wait a second!" he called.

I turned.

"Come back tomorrow," he growled. "I want you to."

I had an epiphany. "Awww!" I cooed. "You like me!"

"Not like that!" Batman growled. "But I do."

I smiled. "I like you, too," I said. And I meant it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I'd given Batman a kiss on the cheek.

I stepped back, blushing. Then I ran away in embarrassment.

"What the hell was that?" I heard Batman mutter.


	30. I believe in-guess who?

I ran like the wind, blushing profusely and trying to get as far away as possible from the Batman. What did I just do? Did I just kiss him? Did I just kiss a guy? Batman was going to murder me, I just knew it.

I got home just like I always did, and got into bed.

* * *

The next morning, I heard Bruce Wayne calling me. "Annie, wake up!" he shouted. "We're going to Wayne Enterprises."

I sat up. Wayne Enterprises? That sounded cool! "Coming!" I shouted, and I got ready. At last, decked out in a short-sleeved pink dress and pink sandals, I rushed out to meet Mr. Wayne.

As we drove(Alfred was driving, poor guy), I told Mr. Wayne all about my Southern roots. "I love country music," I told him. "It's so real, y'know?"

Bruce leaned in to whisper to Alfred, "Finally, a woman with good taste! I can't imagine how Rachel keeps her sanity, listening to all that '50s jazz before she goes to bed."

"It gets the heels tapping," Alfred said dryly. Bruce and I both laughed.

* * *

When we were there, I gawked at everything like an idiot.

"Whoa, Mr. Wayne! You work here?" I gasped. "It's so cool!"

"Call me Bruce. Why, thank you," Bruce said calmly in his smooth, suave voice. My heart pounded like a judge's gavel. I was starting to have a crush on the billionaire.

I found a tablet on display and began to play with it. Then I looked up...and Bruce was gone.

"Bruce?" I stood up and put down the tablet. "Bruce?!" I began running, my heart racing with fear and tears welling up in my eyes. "Where are you?"

My eyes were so blurry with tears that I ran into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. I looked up into the face of a man with blond hair and a cleft chin.

He smiled. "It's perfectly all right," he said. "So you're living with Bruce Wayne now, right? Welcome to Wayne Enterprises." And he extended his hand.

I shook it. "Nice to meet you, sir!" I exclaimed. "You look familiar, but...what's your name?"

"Harvey Dent," he said calmly.

"Oh!" I cried. "I saw you in the commercial!"

* * *

"Ah, yes," Harvey said. He cleared his throat. "Well, young lady, Bruce Wayne is off working at his job. Damn him, he left you here all alone."

The two of us stood there for what seemed like forever.


	31. Harvey Dent Talks About Catgirl

Harvey spoke. "What's your name again?"

"Annie," I replied.

"Oh," Harvey said. "Well, I guess I'll have to thank that Catgirl from the news. Do you know where she is, by any chance?"

_The Catgirl from the news!_ He was talking about me! But he didn't know my true identity. I feigned surprise and lied, "Sorry! Haven't seen her."

* * *

Wait. _I was in the **news**_?

"Well, if you do, please thank her for me, okay?" Harvey said, and turned to leave.

"Wait, Mr. Dent!" I called.

He turned.

"Did you say Catgirl was in the news?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah!" he replied enthusiastically. "She's really helping us out. She took children back home, saved an old man, and stopped a thief! And from the looks of her, she couldn't be more than twelve years old! Amazing! She and the Batman should hook up. Have you heard of the Batman?"

I nodded. "Wow," I said, astonished that I was in the news. "Yeah, I'll thank her for you, Mr. Dent."

Just then, Mr. Wayne came back from his job. "Come on, Annie," he said. "Oh, hello, Harvey. Don't tell me you told Annie anything...questionable."

"I did not," Harvey replied. "Trust me on that, at least."

* * *

I grasped Mr. Wayne's arm as we walked off. "You know him?" I asked.

"Yeah," he grinned in that Bruce Wayne way of his. "Sorry I didn't tell you. It's just been one big rush, and..."

"I know," I said, still holding his arm. "It's okay." And it was.


	32. Rochelle-or is she?

**Annie's POV**

The two of us strolled around Wayne Enterprises. I couldn't believe how awesome it was!

Bruce found some friends of his, and they started talking about stocks and finance like those things were better than eating hot dogs and cotton candy while watching baseball. I rolled my eyes and smiled. Adults. They were weird, yet awesome.

I looked around for something to do, then heard my best friend's voice. I decided to go eavesdrop a little.

"So my dad says that interning in Wayne Enterprises is supposed to be soo enriching, or whatever," Barbara Gordon complained to a tall brunette who looked familiar. They were sitting near the entrance of Wayne Enterprises. "Look, I want to get ahead and all, and I love my father, but is it too much to ask to have a normal summer? Geez!" She threw up her hands.

Wait a minute. Interning? She had a library internship! Did she intern at 2 places? What the...

"Oh, hi, Barbara!" I called. "I thought you interned at the library!"

Barbara saw me, and a big grin formed on her face. She waved and called, "Over here, Annie!" I ran over and sat down beside her.

"Dad decided that one internship was too easy for a 'smart young lady' like me, so now I'm working both here and in the library," Barbara explained.

"Two jobs? That's just wrong! Maybe you'll get days off," I said, and sympathetically patted her shoulder.

Barbara laughed. "It's okay," she smiled. "It's only for a month. I'll be out by July."

"Yaay! We can do something fun!" I exclaimed.

"We will. We'll do something so thrilling, so adventurous, so mind-blowingly epic, that even the Batman won't be able to compete with us," Barbara answered with a daredevil-esque look on her face. I knew that look. She only had it when she was coming up with a plan. A thrilling, epic, and mind-blowingly risky plan.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Barbara exclaimed after a few minutes. "I met this girl while interning, and we really hit it off." She gestured to the tall brunette beside her. "Annie, this is Rochelle. Rochelle, Annie."

"Hello!" Rochelle greeted me. She was tall, brown-eyed, and had long, silky brown hair-everything I wanted, but couldn't have. Well, except the hair. "Barbara told me so much about you, Annie!"

* * *

At first glance, she looked like a nice, normal, sweet girl. Now I know better.

* * *

"So, Annie, how are things?" Rochelle said enthusiastically. _Wow_, I thought. _She's even more optimistic than me! __And that's saying something._

"They're good," I responded. I suddenly knew exactly what I could tell her. Leaning in as if I was about to share some juicy gossip, I whispered, "Did you know I'm living with Bruce Wayne?"

* * *

"No way!" Rochelle exclaimed. "Really? Bruce Wayne is sooo hot! I'm so jealous!"

"I know!" I whispered excitedly. "And he's such a nice guy, too!"

* * *

"Bruce isn't all you think he is," Barbara warned.

* * *

"What do you mean?" I exclaimed, whirling around to face her. "He's just fine, thank you very much!"

"No, Annie," Barbara said calmly. "Bruce is definitely a great guy. But he's very different from what you think of him."

* * *

I just stood there blinking. Was Bruce..._lying _to me? No, no, that couldn't be possible.

"Annie!" Bruce called.

"Oh, gotta go!" I exclaimed, and ran off. Rochelle seemed nice. I liked her.

Oh, boy, did I regret that decision.

* * *

**Rochelle's POV**

* * *

"Barbara, I have to go," said Rochelle, grabbing her things. "Goodbye."

"Yeah, see you later," Barbara muttered. "Now where the hell are those files on the CIA?"

Rochelle stood up and got the heck out of there before proceeding to make her way through the streets of Gotham.

* * *

"Barbara's not aware of anything. So unlike her usual smart self," the brunette mused. Then a smile grew on her lips. "Perfect. My plan is working perfectly. Soon justice will be served and Barbara will be swinging from a rope on a tree!"

She let out a long sigh of relief. "And that girl's fooled, too. In fact...of course! That plan's even better than my old one! Wait till I tell John!"

* * *

"John" was the head doctor at Arkham Asylum, otherwise known as Jonathan Crane.

* * *

"Hey! Mommy left me here! Can you help me, please?" a little boy called out.

Rochelle rolled her eyes and let out a snort. "Kids," she muttered, and without missing a beat, turned around and shot the boy. He let out a high-pitched scream and fell down.

"Good riddance," she muttered, and kept walking. Soon she reached Arkham and walked inside.

* * *

"John! So _good _to see you!" Rochelle exclaimed. "Everything's all going according to plan. Actually, I have a better plan!"

A man was working on a computer. He turned to face Rochelle. He had shocking blue eyes and brown hair.

"This plan had better be good," Jonathan Crane said icily. "Trickstress, you know what I say about abandoning evil plans at the last minute!"

"No, this is a better one," said Rochelle, apparently "Trickstress" now. "Trust me, Crane. Barbara has a little friend now who's living with _Bruce Wayne_." She spat out the name, as if just saying it was disgusting. "I'll target her. Annie, was it? What a terrible name. But that doesn't matter. When I'm done with Annie, Bruce and Barbara will both die of agony over losing her. It's the perfect revenge for what they did. It's the perfect evil plan!"

Jonathan nodded slowly. "Very good, Trickstress. Make sure to douse her with my fear toxin while you're at it."

"How could I forget?" Rochelle chuckled.

She tossed her hair. "Watch out, Annie. Your days are numbered."


	33. Mystery Solved

I didn't have time to think about it, because something was going on in front of us.

"What the hell..." Bruce muttered. I craned my neck to see.

Police cars and ambulances were in front of us. People were running, shouting, crying. I saw someone on a stretcher. How did we miss that?

Bruce and I got out of the car and went over to see. I almost threw up when I saw who was on the stretcher.

It was a little boy. The boy I'd taken home in the taxi on my first hero mission. Someone had shot him.

Who did this? I thought angrily. Who could be so cold-hearted as to shoot a kid?

We saw a man kneeling beside the stretcher, wailing and screaming for God's help.

"What is it, sir?" I asked.

"You have to ask?" he exclaimed. "A piece of filth shot my son! He could die! I'm going to get the court to give the shooter death if it's the last thing I do! And if not, I'll kill the shooter myself!"

"I'm sorry about that," I said helplessly. I felt terrible. I was Catgirl, a hero. I was supposed to stop these sorts of things, but now some poor kid got his brains blown out because I wasn't paying attention. "I support your cause."

"Thank you," he whispered. "I bet you'd do the same thing if it was someone you loved."

Really? Would I? I thought of Bruce Wayne, and wondered if I'd kill anyone who hurt him. Well, not kill, 'cause that was illegal, but I knew that anyone who hurt the billionaire was liable to get a good spanking from yours truly.

And Batman...that went without saying. Please, anyone who laid a hand on that masked man would get a good hard whack on the head with my trusty frying pan. And that was the lightest punishment.

Some police officers were talking to the public. Commissioner Gordon and another one I hadn't seen before. The latter looked really young for a cop, like 19 or 20. I walked over to listen.

"Eyewitnesses say a girl with brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin shot the boy," Commissioner Gordon said. "We couldn't find the murder weapon, but according to the evidence, the boy was shot with a .22 caliber. We are working hard to track down the perpetrator of this crime and give her the fullest punishment of the law."

There was a mixture of cheering and exasperated shouting.

Me? I was part of the cheering crowd. "Oh, I hope so," I murmured. "I hope they track this girl down." Even with all the corruption in Gotham, I had faith in the police system. That's what I was taught-respect for authority.

I thought of my grandfather and hoped to God that the law-enforcement people would throw the book at whoever killed him. That was long overdue.

Hey. Hey, wait a second. "Eyewitnesses say a girl with brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin shot the boy."

Rochelle! But she was just a regular girl. Still, the kid had been shot suspiciously close to the mall where I'd met her. Something was fishy.

"Excuse me, Commissioner Gordon, sir!" I called.

The place became quiet. You could hear a pin drop.

"Do you have any additional information? If not, please sit down." Commissioner Gordon's voice was hard.

I gulped. I felt like a rat, a tattletale, but I had to tell everyone what I knew.

Then Bruce Wayne stepped up and clasped his strong hand over my mouth.

"Mmph! Mmmph!" I cried, trying to pry his hand off. Bruce didn't budge.

"Sorry, Jim!" Bruce called. "Annie here's been reading too many mystery novels! She doesn't have any info, right, Annie?" And he elbowed me in the side. I nodded desperately, and Bruce let me go. I gasped for breath, taking in huge gulps of air.

Bruce started running to the car. I followed him.

"Annalia, never do that again," he hissed. "It's embarrassing."

I nodded in fear, and the two of us drove home.

I stared out the window as Bruce maneuvered the vehicle down the street.

My parents don't have a car like this, I thought. Wait-my parents?

I felt a strange spasm come over me, and my eyes burned with held-back tears. I started panting with an effort to hold them back.

"Annie? You okay?" Bruce sounded concerned.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." I faked a smile and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"No, you're not." Bruce's voice was sharp. "Look, Annalia, I was twelve once, too, and I know all the ins and outs of that age. You're damn well not okay. Something's wrong."

My eyes widened. How was this guy so smart?

Bruce's voice softened. "Look, how about you check out the library? I hear you're quite the reader, and a hell of a writer, too."

I brightened. "Okay!"

At Wayne Manor, Alfred greeted the two of us, and served us a belated breakfast. Thank God. I was starving.

"May I please go to the library?" I asked when we were done.

"I shall personally escort you there," Alfred told me, and the two of us strolled off to the library.

"Whoa." That was all I could say. "Whoa."

The library was the biggest I'd ever seen, with books that looked like they were from the 1920s, all the way to books that looked like any other book from 2005.

I thanked Alfred and plopped down on the couch with a good mystery.

"Note to self:never consider taking up detective work," I commented halfway into the book. I couldn't make head or tail of what the sleuths were doing.

I heard heavy footsteps come up behind me, and a familiar deep voice drawled, "Hmm, if I read that, I think I could very well figure out who did it."

"Bruce!" I shouted in delight, whirling around.

Sure enough, there was the billionaire, standing there with a smile on his face. I felt my face glow with a happy radiance at seeing him.

I gave him the book, and he paged through it for a few minutes. Then, with a triumphant "Eureka!", Bruce handed the book to me. I took it.

"The guy with the red hair did it," he declared.

"How do you know?" Man, Bruce Wayne was smart.

"All the evidence pointed to him," said Bruce matter-of-factly. "He was the only one near the library when the books burned, he failed the lie-detector test, he suspiciously went off to the library on his own after classes, need I say more?"

I quickly flipped to the last page to confirm this. Bruce was right. The redheaded guy was guilty.

I shook my head. "That's awesome. "

"It's child's play," Bruce said calmly.

A/N: So this is the official thirty-fourth chapter! Please leave a review, I really appreciate it. I'll update soon!

Oh, and the mystery novel thing is a reference to Bruce being the 'world's greatest detective', so it would be easy for him to solve a mystery like that :)


	34. My Parents: I Miss Them

I was in awe. Child's play? That couldn't be possible. "Well, I guess I'll be going," I stuttered awkwardly. I then stood ut. My whole body felt chills while I was around Bruce Wayne.

I couldn't deny it. Folks, I was in love!

* * *

_Then_ _in_ the _hallway..._

Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

* * *

Bruce Wayne was my new guardian, so he was kind of my foster dad. I was in love with my adopted father! That was just wrong in so many ways.

I almost lost my breakfast right on Bruce's expensive-looking rug.

"I've been eating too many pancakes! I've gone crazy!" I exclaimed, and started pacing around the rug.

* * *

After some time, I sighed and strolled around the house, bored out of my skull.

I decided to go back to the library. I ran inside the huge door and began browsing through the books on the shelves. Then something caught my eye.

* * *

It was a book. A small picture book with a green cover. I recognized it instantly.

It was the book my parents read to me seven years ago. I still remembered it. And when my parents were away, Grandpa would read it to me...my eyes welled up and I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to burst into tears. I jumped up and tore out of the room.

"Annie!" Bruce's voice called after me. "Annie, come back!"

I ignored him and ran outside. Sitting on the steps, I felt sadness wash over me. I didn't cry, though.

My parents. My own flesh and blood. I remembered all the good times we had, and realized that I missed my parents. I loved Bruce Wayne, but he wasn't my mother. Or my father. I wanted to be back with Mom and Dad, warm, safe, where I belonged.

"You all right, kiddo?" Bruce Wayne's voice sounded.

I sighed. "Yeah, but I miss my parents," I muttered. Bruce sat down beside me.

"I know how you feel," he said gently. "My parents were away from me once, too. I know it's hard."

I smiled at him. He always knew how to make me feel better. "Thank you," I said, and before I knew it, I'd pulled him into a hug.

We sat there for some time.

"How am I ever gonna get over this?" I murmured.

"You will. Trust me," he whispered. "Well, you should get back to your room."

"Carry me," I muttered lazily. "Please? I'll give you five bucks."

Bruce laughed and obliged, telling me that he had much more than five dollars, thank you very much.


	35. Bruce Wayne's POV: She Makes Me Happy

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers and followers and 'favoriters' for your support! It really means a lot!

That said, I have two women who could each be Bruce's love interest: Selina Kyle(duh). Or the main character herself, Annalia! When she's 25, of course. I'll explain later. So who should I pair Bruce up with? I want Bruce and Annalia to be together soo badly! The poor girl is positively crazy about him, and they are so cute as a couple!

But my readers would disapprove (especially Alaura Nova Shadowmane), and BatxCat is pretty much a match made in heaven anyway. Help!

Ok, I'll do this. I'll create a poll about this dilemma and put it on my profile. If you want to express your opinion about this problem, go to my profile, and click on the poll to vote on your pairing of choice.

You can also PM me your opinion if you want. That's totally fine.

Thanks so much, all of you! Sorry for this extra-long A/N! Back to the story!

* * *

**Bruce Wayne's POV**

Bruce held Annalia in his arms. Unsurprisingly, she wasn't heavy at all. He bench-pressed weights heavier than Annie every day. And those were the light weights.

"Maybe you need a nap," Bruce murmured, and set Annie on her bed.

"Naps are for babies," she complained. "I'm not even-" She yawned. "Tired." And she fell fast asleep.

Bruce felt for Annalia. She was a damn good young lady: a fiery country girl, but a sweet Southern Belle, too.

The billionaire decided to go talk to his butler about her. Alfred always knew what to do.

* * *

"So, Master Bruce, how is Annie?" Alfred asked.

"She's great!" Bruce was jubilant.

"Glad to hear it," Alfred smiled. But there was something else in his expression.

Bruce's face darkened. He knew that look. Alfred thought Bruce was simply pretending he liked Annie, just like the billionaire pretended to be a superficial playboy in the public eye.

"I'm being serious, Alfred!" Bruce growled.

"Of course. My apologies, Master Bruce."

"No problem. Anyway," said Bruce, "ever since my parents died, I haven't felt love for anyone, I've never been happy-I'm living a lie."

Alfred nodded sympathetically. He had known Bruce all his 29 years of life, and knew how hard it was for him.

"But Annie," Bruce continued, "Annie, she's different. Most of my so-called 'friends' would grab all their belongings and get the hell out if I lost a penny of the Wayne money. Annie-she likes me. I know she has very strong feelings for me. But that's not the point. The point is-she's different. She's just such an energetic person-Alfred, Annalia makes me happy."

Alfred was feeling a mixture of both surprise and euphoria at this statement.

"I feel for her," Bruce said. "Alfred, we need to find out where she really disappears to at night. I have a hunch that our guest is Catgirl, but I need to prove it. Tonight, I'm going to see if Catgirl is really Annie Gaylewood."

Alfred was worried, but he nodded. "Good luck, sir."


	36. Will You Go Out With Me?

**Annie's POV**

* * *

I blinked my eyes open and yawned. I looked out the window and gasped at what I saw.

* * *

The sun was setting. Yes, I had slept the whole day.

"Uggh...what did I miss?" I groaned. My throat ached, and my voice came out in a rasp. I felt heat pulsing through my face, my nose was running, and my eyes were watering. I was sick.

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed, and fell back on the bed, gasping.

At last, getting out of bed, I staggered off to find Bruce.

* * *

"Annie, you have to stay here today." Bruce's voice was sharp. "No more sneaking off at night to God-knows-where."

Oh, great. He knew I'd been sneaking off! And I couldn't be a hero today! I was doomed.

I coughed until my chest was sore from hacking up all that mucus.

"Yeah, okay," I groaned.

* * *

Six hours later...

* * *

It was nighttime, but I wasn't asleep.

My costume was spread out on my bed. I was in a pickle.

I have to fight crime today, I thought. It's what I do.

But I can't lie to Bruce! And I'm not even sure I want to do this, I thought.

"Hey! You all right?"

I looked up to see Barbara Gordon dressed as Batgirl crouching in my window.

"Hi!" I exclaimed.

"Hey," she whispered. "Good to see you, Annie. But you look like your dog died. Is something the matter?"

I sighed. "Yeah," I said. "I have to fight crime, but Bruce told me not to. He's my new guardian."

"Ah, don't mind him. Look, you go fight crime, and I'll go with you. I'll tell Bruce I'm watching you. Ok?"

"Okay!" I replied, feeling much better.

* * *

After some time...

* * *

My feet touched the rooftop noiselessly as I ran. The place was surrounded with enormous beanbags. I decided to warm up a little.

"Hah! Hi-yah!" I shouted, running as fast as I could and punching the beanbags.

I kicked a bag, sending it flying, and elbowed another one, letting it keel over.

I was warming up for a special plan I'd devised.

I was going to beat Batman.

My parents and late grandparents always said that if you believed, you could do it. Facing off with Batman, I'd need all the belief I could get.

* * *

When I reached the building where we always met, Batman was already there, looking at what looked like a watch.

I stepped forward. He saw me.

"Finally, you slowpoke!" he exclaimed. "I've been waiting for an hour."

I was about to apologize, when I let out a loud sneeze.

"Bless you!" Batman exclaimed.

"Sorry...ah-choo!" I sneezed again. "Oh, no."

"Go home, kid," Batman advised. "Never fight crime while sick."

"No," I said stubbornly. "I can do it!"

"No, you can't," Batman growled.

"May I ask you a question?" I said suddenly.

"Fire away," the vigilante said calmly.

I gulped and let out a shaky breath. How would I ever do this?

"Batman, we've, uh, known each other for a while now," I said carefully. "So please don't laugh when I ask this. Please."

Batman was silent. I took a deep breath.

* * *

"Will you go out with me?" I blurted out.

* * *

Batman stared at me, his mouth open. "So let me get this straight," he said. "You want me to go out with you? Like a date? A romantic date?"

I nodded yes.

Batman chuckled, which then turned to full-blown laughter.

"I swear to God in heaven, Catgirl, you're a riot!" he gasped between giggles. "Me? Go on a date with you? That's better than those comedy shows they have in bars on the weekends! You never cease to have me in stitches, kid."

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" I shouted in anger. "That does it, Batman. I'm gonna beat you in a fight, whether you like it or not!"


	37. The Unmasking

"Just try it," the vigilante retorted. "I could beat you while in a coma."

"Okay..." I sized him up. It looked like the best place to get him was his exposed mouth.

I threw a punch at his face, only to have him grab my arm and sock me in the nose with it. He hit me with my own arm!

I took off running at Batman, intending to slide between his legs and attack from behind, but he grabbed me by the hair(yeah, my hair-weird, right?)and hurled me into a box like I was a limp rag doll.

We punched and fought each other for what seemed like hours.

"Gotcha!" I gasped as I elbowed Batman in the face. "Keep telling yourself that," he growled, kicking me down, and then an unreal thing happened.

Batman put both his hands under me-one under my neck, and the other on my back-and lifted me up. Effortlessly, as if I weighed less than a pebble to him.

"Huh?" I cried, but that wasn't the unreal part.

The Batman started spinning me around and around in his hands, faster and faster, then threw me into some boxes.

"Ohhh," I groaned, sitting up. Then it hit me. I'd lost! Batman had beaten me! I could almost feel my ego deflating.

Batman sauntered towards me with a smirk on his face. "What were you saying about beating me?" he gloated.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I surrender, I surrender! Happy now?"

"Nope," Batman grunted. "There's still one thing I have to do."

Then he reached behind my head and started untying my mask.

Wait. Untying my mask?!

"Wait! Stop! What the heck!" I screamed, and desperately tried to push his hands away. Partly because I was being unmasked, and partly because my heart was racing like a Ferrari at being touched by him.

I am such an idiot.

"Look, unmasking is a sign of trust, support, and surrender," Batman lectured. "You obviously trust and support me, and you surrendered after that ass-beating I just gave you. So I'm unmasking you."

"Shut up! Heroes never reveal their identity!" I shouted, still pushing and kicking at him.

"Sure they do. To their friends," he growled, and then, he ripped my mask off.


	38. Unmasked

I gasped and got down on my knees, staring down at the roof, and trying not to look at Batman.

Then I reached up and touched my face. It was bare. No mask. No nothing. Just me. Without my mask, I felt naked. Bare. Nothing to protect myself. I was fully exposed.

Slowly, shaking like a leaf, I got up, and looked at him. I stared unflinchingly into his eyes.

* * *

"Annie," Batman growled. "Annalia Mabel Gaylewood."

"How do you know my name?" I stammered.

"Long story," he replied.

I heaved a sigh. "Fine," I said. "I am Annalia Mabel Gaylewood. You-you were right." I hoped to God he wouldn't think I was lying. Guilt washed over me as I thought of all the people I'd lied to so I could keep my identity hidden.

"I know," he growled. He gestured to the ground. "Sit down."

I did, and so did he.

* * *

"I know it's hard," Batman growled. "To lie to your loved ones about your identity."

"I know, right?" I exclaimed. "You understand everything!"

Well, duh. Batman probably had a secret identity, too. Of course he knew what it was like.

"So I read the news, and a girl named Annalia Mabel Gaylewood who looked exactly like you was taken in by Bruce Wayne," Batman explained. "I figured she was you, and now I know for sure."

"Okaaay then." My voice was uncertain.

"Put this back on," Batman ordered, and tossed me my mask. I quickly did so, tying the mask around my head.

"Things will be easier now. Later." And he was gone.

Looking down, I saw him flying through the air to another building.

I sighed, watching him go. He was a grade A jerk, but lovable in his own way. Blushing, I wondered for a moment how he felt about me. If he loved me like I loved him, I'd probably die of euphoria.


	39. The Door

When I got home that night, I got out of my costume and went to bed just like I always did.

* * *

**The next day...**

"Note to self:stop sleeping at midnight," I groaned, heaving myself out of bed. I yawned and coughed. I felt more feverish than ever.

I decided to go look around for a bit. "Gee whiz, there must be a whole wealth of things to be found in a house as big as this one," I commented.

I strolled through the empty mansion, admiring what I saw, until I bumped into something. "Ow!" I hissed, rubbing my forehead in pain.

I looked up. I'd bumped into a door. "Huh," I remarked. "Haven't seen this before." I reached out and grabbed the doorknob, the brass cool under my fingers, and tried to open the door. Locked.

"Try again," I instructed myself, and tried again. No use.

"Wait a darned minute," I murmured. "If I turn it the other way..." I did so, and sure enough, with a _click!_, the door unlocked.

"Yes!" I hissed in delight. I was just about to pull the door open when I heard a voice.

* * *

"Annie! **No!**_"_

* * *

I whirled to see Bruce Wayne standing there with a horrified look on his face. Alfred was behind him.


	40. The Tumbler-Why Adventure Is Awesome

"Don't go in there, Annie." Bruce's voice was sharp.

"Why?" I was confused.

"Look, it's a secret, okay?" He sounded exasperated, as if he was telling some poor kid for the hundredth time that _no_, she could not have those gold slippers.

"Secret? Like in the movies where that kid finds a secret passage?" I was interested now. That sounded like an adventure. I _liked_ adventure.

"Look, Annie, would you like it if you worked very hard to conceal something and then some guy found it?" I shook my head. "No? Then leave that door alone."

I sighed. "Okay, fine."

"Good." And he left.

* * *

As soon as he stepped out, I turned back to the door in excitement.

"Oh, I wanna go in there soo badly!" I whispered. "But Bruce said no."

The next few minutes were a battle between me and my conscience.

* * *

"Do it! Don't do it! Do it! Don't do it!" I repeated to myself, pacing and occassionally reaching for the doorknob only to pull my hand back again.

"The adventure! But no!" I whispered, still pacing. Finally, I decided.

* * *

"Oh, what the heck!" I exclaimed, and pulled the door open. I gasped.

* * *

I was faced with a large room with a piano close to the corner. "Wow," I whispered in awe. "Hmm, a piano. Let me see!" And I rushed towards it.

Still a little sleepy, I randomly played some notes. "I gotta learn how to play this thing," I muttered, and plunked two keys. Then it happened.

* * *

Just like in the movies, on the supposedly blank wall, a door opened. A secret door. When people found secret passages, they had adventures, and you know what that meant, at least in my twelve-year-old mind.

* * *

"Oh my gosh," I hissed, feeling the thrill bubble up inside me. "I'm gonna have a real live adventure! I bet Batman's really gonna be jealous." Boy, was I wrong.

Stepping inside the door, I realized I was in a dingy old elevator-like contraption. The door suddenly slammed, trapping me in the elevator. "Huh?" I yelped.

The elevator abruptly plunged down, making my heart jump into my mouth.

"I'm doomed," I muttered.

* * *

Then the elevator stopped and opened. I stepped out without hesitation, and found myself in a dark room.

* * *

"Gee whiz, I wonder what Bruce has to hide in here," I said aloud.

I felt around in the darkness until my hand hit something. I picked it up. It looked like a lantern.

I grabbed the lantern and turned it on. A soft light filled the room.

* * *

**A/N: You should listen to Eptesicus by Hans Zimmer while reading this part, it suits it perfectly! Happy reading!**

**-Jasmine Scarthing**

* * *

Getting up, I slowly walked across the room, feeling that adrenaline rush one gets when he or she explores something previously unknown.

"This is awesome," I said.

Suddenly, I felt something near my foot. I picked it up.

* * *

It was a vial full of red powder. Strange, yet exciting.

* * *

"Wonder what this is."

I decided to save it. Slipping the vial into the pocket of my jeans, I continued exploring.

"Okay, just keep on going-ouch!" I exclaimed, rubbing my temple. I'd bumped into something. "What was that?" I looked up and almost felt the breath leave me at the sight.

* * *

A big black tank-like vehicle was in front of me. The kind of tank soldiers used to shoot bad guys. "That is just..amazing."

Whaat? I didn't know what else to say!

Gingerly, I reached out and ran my hand along the surface of the vehicle. I felt chills run down my spine.

"Ohh, wait till I tell Batman!" I exclaimed. "I'm gonna rub it in his face that I found an awesome car and he didn't!"

* * *

"Oh, really?"

* * *

I gasped and turned around to see Bruce Wayne. Uh-oh.

"Oh, uh, hi!" I stuttered. "I, uh, I can explain! Honest! So I was just-"

"_Quiet_." Wow, he was grouchy. "I _told _you _not _to come in here! You're grounded for a week, young lady!"

"What? You can't do that!" I exclaimed.

"I sure as hell can!" he shouted in my face. "I'm your frickin' legal guardian!"

I sighed. "Okay, you win," I muttered, and the two of us started towards the dingy old elevator.

* * *

"Annie, why did you come in here?" Bruce asked as we stood in the elevator.

"Well...I like adventure and exploring and stuff!" I blurted out. "I thought there would be something awesome in there. And I was right." I thought of the huge vehicle I saw.

"Well, don't do it again, okay?" His tone was hard. "You've got the whole mansion to explore. Just leave this room alone."

"Okay," I said. We got off the elevator and out of the large room with the piano.

"Fine, you're only grounded for three days," Bruce said in a lighter tone. "But you're still grounded!"

"Yes, sir," I said with exaggerated respect, and the two of us reached the living room.

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, I updated! Hooray :)**

**3 things:**

**1. Bruce acts out of character because Annie saw the Tumbler, so she could find out his secret identity, so he's kinda pissed.**

**2. The place Annie discovers...well, **

**SPOILER ALERT!**

**In Batman Begins, when the house is burning down, Alfred saves Bruce, and they go into this rusty old elevator-like thingamajig after playing some random notes on a piano. That's what Annie found.**

**3. Ok, so the original Annie G./Catgirl(I created her long before I wrote this) was supposed to be really sassy and fierce and all, but she somehow got really watered down. Now I'm stuck with a naive idiot as Catgirl? Any ideas on how to make Annie more sarcastic and fierce and sure of herself? If you have one, please review with your idea! Thank you.**

**-Jasmine Scarthing**


	41. The Batman

A/N: So I was watching the Dark Knight and I thought the scene in the restaurant (you either die a hero, yada yada) would be perfect for Annie. Enjoy!

* * *

**Two days later...**

Annie's POV

"So I'm going with you?" I was surprised.

"Yeah, sorry, kiddo. Get ready for long mindless droning about adult stuff."

I laughed. "OK, I'll try to make sense of it all."

Alfred drove us down to a strange house first. A blonde lady walked out. "Who's that?" I asked.

"My date." Bruce sounded very calm.

"Your date?"

"Yeah. Oh, Alfred, I guess we'll have to take the other car."

"The other one?" Suddenly, Bruce and his date were gone.

"Bruce? Where'd he go, Alfred?"

"Fret not, Annie. We'll meet them at the restaurant," came Alfred's cool voice.

I relaxed. "Okay."

At the restaurant...

"Wow!" I whispered. "It's so high-class!" I tried to look respectful, but got bored with that pretty soon.

Then I saw Bruce and his date. He smiled at me and motioned for me to come.

I rushed over. "Hi!" I whispered.

"Hey," Bruce whispered back. "This is my date, Natasha." And he gestured to the pretty blonde beside him.

"Hello," I said cheerily.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gaylewood," said the woman in a heavy accent. "Bruce has told me so much about you."

"Oh, shut up." Bruce was blushing. "Well, there's our table."

"Rachel!" Bruce called in a cheerfully surprised tone. "Fancy that."

Rachel? I looked over to see her and...Harvey Dent? What was he doing here?

We walked over to the table.

"Yeah, Bruce," said Rachel. "Fancy that." Then she saw me. "Annie! Good to see you. Harvey, this is Annie."

Harvey gave me a nod.

"Now, Harvey, that's no way to greet a lady!" Rachel giggled, playfully punching him in the arm.

"Uggh! Fine," Harvey groaned loudly, then looked up at me. "Hey! I know you!"

"Yeah!" I replied. "We met at Wayne Enterprises, Mr. Dent."

"Mr. Dent? Wow, so well-mannered!" Harvey exclaimed. "Please, call me Harvey."

"The Gaylewoods are good people," Bruce observed. "So they raised their daughter like that."

"Uh-huh."

"Natasha, Rachel. Rachel, Natasha," Bruce introduced.

"Natasha?" Rachel sounded interested. "Are you the prima..."

"Prima ballerina for the Moscow ballet," Bruce finished.

"Wow. Harvey's taking me next week," Rachel announced.

"Really? So you're into ballet?" Bruce asked Harvey.

"Sounds cool!" I exclaimed. Everyone looked at me. I shut up right away.

"So let's put a few tables together," Bruce suggested.

"You think they'll let us?" Harvey sounded hesitant.

"Oh, they should. I own the place," Bruce said airily.

What? He did? I was shocked.

Bruce motioned to some guy to put the tables together, and we sat down.

* * *

"How can one raise children in a city like this?" Natasha commented as we waited for our order.

"Well, I was raised here, I turned out okay," Bruce replied.

"Me too!" I piped up. Everyone laughed.

"She's so cute, Bruce," Harvey remarked. "Seriously, everything that girl does has me in stitches."

"Yeah," Bruce smiled.

They talked about some stuff about Wayne Manor and the new DA, whatever that was. I got interested when Natasha inserted her two cents' worth.

"I'm talking about the kind of city that idolizes a masked vigilante," she complained.

A masked vigilante? Batman! I wasn't going to let Natasha bash my friend.

Wait. Friend?

I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to sock Natasha a good one in her pretty face and lecture her on why Batman was awesome. Luckily, Harvey defended him.

"The city is proud of an ordinary citizen standing up for what's right," Harvey explained.

Part of me wanted to applaud him and part of me wanted to scream, "Are you all drunk or something? Does Catgirl ring a bell to you?" But I stayed quiet, clenching my fist even harder.

"Gotham needs heroes like you, elected officials, not a man who thinks he is above the law," Natasha retorted.

"Exactly," Bruce chimed in. My hands were getting white marks from all that fist-clenching. "Who appointed the Batman?"

"We did. All of us who stood by and let scum take control of our city," Harvey said

That did it. I had heard enough. Slamming down my bag, I got up and left the table without a word.

"Hey! Annie! Come back!" Harvey called. "I wasn't trying to offend you!"

"Yeah, right," I muttered. I found a guard. "Sir," I said, my voice coming out harder than usual. "Where is the bathroom?"

He pointed to the right. "Thanks," I said.

* * *

In the bathroom...

I splashed water on my face in pure anger.

"The nerve of him! Stood by?" I raged. "Yeah, I'd like to see you do what I've done, Mr. I'm-So-Perfect Harvey Dent!"

"Dude, check out the crazy lady!"

I whirled to see two girls pointing and giggling at me.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed out of habit. What I really wanted to do was karate chop those girls into next year. "Just having a moment. Heh-heh."

The girls stared with their mouths open as I rushed out of the bathroom.

Feeling less angry and a bit remorseful, I made my way to our table. Everyone was still sitting there, watching me. I sat down.

"Where were ya, Annie?" Bruce asked.

"Ah, poor thing probably got pissed off at what I said. It's all good, kid," Harvey smiled. I smiled back. I mentally forgave them both. "Now, what were we saying?"

"Ah, yes," Natasha pronounced in her heavy accent. "But this is a democracy, Harvey."

"When their enemies-oh, Annie, you're twelve, right?" I nodded. "Well, consider this a history lesson," Harvey continued. "When their enemies were at the gates, the Romans would temporarily suspend democracy and appoint one man to protect the city. It wasn't considered an honor. It was considered a public service."

"Harvey, the last man appointed to protect the republic was named Caesar, and he never gave up his power," Rachel retorted teasingly.

"Okay, fine," Harvey said. "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

"No, you don't!" I blurted out.

Eight pairs of eyes turned to gape at me.

I gulped, but kept on talking.

"It can't be that black and white!" I insisted. "Not all heroes die in battle!"

"Well..." Natasha began.

"No!" I interrupted. "I know a girl who does the same thing as the Batman, and she isn't corrupt! So there!"

Bruce desperately tried to shush me, but I was on a roll.

"Really? Who is she?" Harvey and Natasha looked interested.

"She was on the news once. Her name's Catgirl, and she fights crime," I said.


	42. Rachel's a Cheater!

"Oh, yeah, forgot about her. Thanks, kid," said Harvey, twirling his fork in the air. "Natasha, Rachel, Bruce, Catgirl's a kid who fights crime, and she's doing pretty damn well!"

"What a wannabe," Natasha said disdainfully. "I mean, how does a _fragile young girl _like that fight criminals? Something's amiss, or she's an idiot."

Right about then, I wanted to suddenly learn how to fly, pick up Natasha and fly her to Antarctica, and punch her in the face till she blurted out how awesome Catgirl was. I was that livid.

Luckily, Rachel shut Natasha's mouth for me.

* * *

"Hey," Rachel said in an assertive tone, looking her in the eye. "At least she's cleaning up Gotham. What have you done?"

* * *

Natasha shut up immediately. _Thank goodness_, I thought.

"Rachel," Bruce warned. Then he turned around and gave me a look which would have gotten any normal kid crying buckets of tears. I sure as heck felt like crying, but I held it back and tried to look calm.

* * *

"Look, Batman doesn't want to do this the rest of his life. How could he?" Harvey brought my attention back to the conversation. "Batman is looking for someone to take up his mantle."

_Really? Why not? I love being a hero. Why doesn't he? _I thought.

* * *

"Someone like you, Mr. Dent?" said Natasha in a seemingly flirty tone. But maybe that was just because of her accent.

"Maybe," said Harvey. "If I'm up to it."

"What if Harvey Dent is the Caped Crusader?" And she held up her menu in such a way that it covered his eyes.

I let out a little gasp. _He looked like Batman! _What if Natasha was right? What if my fellow hero was this DA guy sitting in front of me? Now _that _would be crazy!

Harvey laughed. "If I were sneaking out every night, someone would have noticed by now."

Then he and Rachel held hands. Wait. Wait! Rachel was Bruce's girlfriend! Either I was hearing things, or she was a cheater!

Bruce sighed. "Well, I'm gonna throw you a fundraiser."

Harvey said something I couldn't decipher.

"Get a fundraiser with my pals. You'll never need another cent," Bruce replied.

* * *

**A/N: Yep, this is the restaurant scene! I hope I didn't miss anything.**


	43. Annalia Meets Mason

_A/N: Finally, the new chapter's up! I am SO sorry it took so long! I've just been so busy! Enjoy! :)_

* * *

"Finally, he's here," said Harvey. I looked up to see the waiter with a notepad. I quickly picked up my menu and started searching for what I wanted.

_Mashed potatoes with roast beef_, one item said. _Oh, I like that! _I thought. _I'll take it!_

"Hello, I'm Mason. May I take your order?" he said, grinning. I noticed that his voice sounded very young, almost like mine. I looked up at him and gasped.

He was a kid like me! He looked about fourteen. And...he was _hot_! For lack of a better way of saying it.

Harvey snorted. "What are you, twelve?"

"Hey, quit it!" I exclaimed suddenly, and turned to the waiter, ready to take my order. Yeah, more like ready to stare at him for the rest of my life.

"Hey, kid, you're pretty cute," said the waiter in a deep voice. He flashed a grin at me that made my insides melt. "I'm Mason."

He really was hot! He looked like me, except his hair was long in a boy kind of way , he had stubble, and his eyes were a dark chocolate brown...oh, god, I was going crazy.

"Uh, t-thanks," I stammered, utterly speechless because of his manliness. "I-I'm Annalia, A-Annie for short."

"Ha-ha, my pleasure," Mason laughed.

* * *

Harvey was staring at him with a suspicious look on his face. So was Bruce.

* * *

Bruce cleared his throat. "I'll have the usual," he said in a tight, clipped voice. "Roast sirloin of beef. Just like it is _every day_."

Rachel's teeth were gritted. "Yeah," she said a little angrily. "Me too. I'll have the _same thing _I have _every day. _Mashed potatoes with roast beef."

* * *

"Are you people feeling all right?" I exclaimed. "The poor guy didn't do anything wrong, and now you're both being total jerks!"

Rachel and Bruce stared at me as if I'd just declared that I could fly.

* * *

Mason grinned. "It's okay. I understand. They probably think I'm hitting on you." He laughed. "How crazy is that?"

"Um, what does 'hitting on' mean?" I timidly asked him.

"Flirting," Mason replied.

"Ohhh, okay." I nodded. I was _so _naive back then, I didn't realize that Mason was doing just that! Flirting!

* * *

Harvey took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm a _guy_, you know, so I can tell when we men hit on girls, and you, _sir_, are doing just that. You're flirting with a little girl!"

"He is not!" I said indignantly. I couldn't believe they were all being so rude. "And I'm not little! That's it, Mason. Sorry about my _family_. We're getting out of here!" And grabbing Mason's arm, I marched off.


	44. Mason and Annie?

"Annie, I think that was a little unnecessary," Mason said uneasily.

"No, it wasn't!" I fumed. "And they say _I'm _stupid and careless!"

Mason took a deep breath. "Annie," he said. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

* * *

I was totally surprised. A date? Me on a date with probably the hottest guy in Gotham? But I didn't date! I remembered when my parents kissed one time, and I thought I didn't want to be in love. I still didn't. But I was!

"Well, maybe," I said uncomfortably. All the while, my mind was screaming, _No, no, NO! This guy's a total player! Run, Annie, run, as fast as you can, before he plays with you and then dumps you like a bag of trash!_

But then Mason gave me such irresistible puppy-dog eyes that I lost it and shouted, "Okay!", silencing that little voice in my head.

"Great!" he said enthusiastically. "I'll meet you outside Wayne Manor at 4:00 P.M. with a taxi."

_What? He really wants to do this? I thought he was joking! _"I-I'll be there," I stammered, trying to look enthusiastic, and hurried away from him.

* * *

"Ohhh," I moaned, sinking down into a chair and putting my head in my hands. "What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

"Annie, what got into you?" Bruce asked me. "You're normally so nice, but you dissed a group of adults for being 'rude'. Do you have any idea how stupid you looked?"

My mind flashed an instant replay of what had happened. I gulped and realized Bruce was right.

"Well..." I began to say. He grabbed me by the arm.

"Actually, you can apologize to the others, and I'll deal with you later," he said, but not in a mean way, and dragged me over to Harvey Dent, Rachel, and Natasha.

"U-um, I, uh..." I stuttered. "Okay, okay! I was a jerk, and stupid, and utterly naive. Sorry, sorry, sorry!"

Harvey stared at me, then started chuckling. "I get a _lot _worse than that at my job!" he exclaimed. "Stop beating yourself up over it. It's no problem."

"Yeah, what you did was almost nice compared to what we go through in the DA's office," Rachel chimed in.

"Really? You forgive me?" I was so happy!

"Well, I guess I could consider it," Natasha said disdainfully.

* * *

_In Wayne Manor..._

At 3:49 P.M., I decided it was time to come up with a good outfit and a game plan.

I found a pretty dress I'd worn when I graduated fifth grade. I was so short and skinny that it still fit!

"How am I gonna get Bruce to let me go?" I muttered. Then I decided to just tell him straight out. Yeah, NOT!

"Um, Bruce, I'm, uh, gonna go for a walk," I blurted out.

"Yeah, whatever, just get back by five o' clock," said Bruce, apparently shaving.

"Thanks!" I ran outside to see Mason wearing a tuxedo.

* * *

"Hi!" Mason said enthusiastically, and kissed me on the cheek.

I swear my face looked like a tomato right then. My first kiss! So early!

"Where are we going?" I asked as we climbed into the taxi.

"To an all-you-can-eat buffet," said Mason. "And then we'll go dancing."

"Oh, I can't dance," I said nervously, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

"I can. I'll teach you," said Mason.

"Oh, I do hope you know what you're doing!"

"'Course I do!" exclaimed Mason.

* * *

**Bruce's POV**

"Master Bruce, I believe you should look out the window," Alfred stuttered uneasily.

"Why, Alfred?" said Bruce. He turned around, and instantly knew why.

Was Annie getting into a car all alone? With a _boy_? With that _Mason_ guy?

"Alfred! She's in trouble!" Bruce exclaimed. "I know how boys like that work. Besides, imagine how much teasing she'll get when people learn that she dated a guy at twelve!"

"So what shall we do?" said Alfred.

"We'll follow her," Bruce declared.

Alfred sighed. "I need a vacation."

* * *

**Annie's POV**

When we reached the buffet, I was starving! But at least I had _Mason _for company. I felt like such a scandalous woman, dating at twelve years old! Bruce was not gonna be happy.

Mason looped his arm around my waist, and I did the same to him. Giggling like kids, we walked into the restaurant, titled _A La You Can Eat__._

* * *

**Bruce's POV**

"_A La You Can Eat_? That is officially the cheesiest restaurant name ever," Harvey Dent remarked from Bruce's Lamborghini. Bruce had let the young DA help him and Alfred find Annalia.

"Trust me, Harvey, when I get my hands on Mason, a bad diner's going to be the least of his problems," Bruce seethed from the driver's seat. He couldn't believe Mason had the gall to just lure his ward away like that. Despite the fact that Annie had only lived with him for a few days, he was starting to feel protective of her.

Harvey was looking outside the window with binoculars. "I see them! They're going into _A La You Can Eat_," he reported.

Bruce suddenly had an idea. All three men got into the back seat of the car and huddled up.

"We'll go in disguise so she doesn't know it's us, and then we'll see if Mason gets too fresh with her," Bruce whispered.

"Good idea," Harvey and Alfred said together.

"Okay, I've got..." Bruce rummaged through the stuff under the seats, and at last pulled out some clothing. "An old lady disguise, a 1920s American man disguise, and a tourist disguise."

"I shall take the 1920s American," Alfred said.

"Tourist for me," said Bruce. That left only one choice for Harvey.

"Oh, no!" Harvey exclaimed, shaking his head. "I will not dress up as an old lady, thank you very much!"

"Just do it. You can be Harvey Dent's long-lost mother," Bruce muttered, and the three snuck off to a bad restaurant to use the bathroom.

**1 hour later...**

"Hello! I'm Harvey Dent's long-lost mother!" said Harvey in a high-pitched voice, wearing the old lady disguise, as he trotted into _A La You Can Eat. _Bruce went after him, keeping his head down so people wouldn't see his face.

"And I am his father," said Alfred, as they all went to sit at a table.

"Bruce, I swear to God, when this is over, I'm going to kick your ward's ass until she cries," Harvey said through gritted teeth.

"You wouldn't hit a woman!" Bruce hissed in mock surprise.

"That Annie's an exception," said Harvey angrily. "Thanks to her stupid love life, I have to pretend I'm my own mother! By the way, Mom passed on years ago."

"Oh, sorry for your loss."

"No problem. Now, how to beat up a girl..."


	45. Heartbreak

**Annie's POV**

"Wow, Mason, this is a great place," I whispered.

"Oh, puh-leease," Mason said, drawing out the _please like _I did when I imitated the "cool girls" from school. "After this, like I said before, we're going dancing."

"Dancing?!" I exclaimed. "I can't dance! Well, I'm great at ballet, but I suck at ballroom dancing!"

Mason laughed. "Me, too. Don't worry, we'll watch other people and learn."

"Well, okay." I was still uneasy. Turning, I saw an old lady, an old gentleman, and a tourist eyeing me. Yeah, more like staring at me so intently they could have burned a hole in my neck.

_Okay, that's just creepy, _I thought. "Wait!" The old lady looked very similar to Harvey Dent. Was he here again?

"Hello, lass!" The lady had a very high voice. I thought it was disguised. "I'm Harvey Dent's mother!"

"Okaaay then," I said uncertainly, turning back to Mason. "So what to do now?"

"We wait for our order. So, tell me about yourself."

"U-um, I can, uh, sing?" Gosh, I was with a real live boy, and that was all I could say?

"Really? Sing for me! Please!"

I sighed. "Okay. Ahem. _Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are._"

"Wow, you're good! You should audition for American Idol," Mason praised me. I glowed inside, smiling bashfully and feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Thanks, but I'm not that good."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" I whirled to see that old lady, the gentleman, and the tourist clapping.

"Okay, who are you people?" I demanded. "What's the big idea with randomly talking to me like that?"

"That's no way to greet an elderly lady," said the gentleman. He sounded like...Alfred? This was getting crazy.

"Yes, sir," I muttered, and turned back to Mason-again.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I'm just a little crabby today."

"No problem. Oh, here's our order!"

* * *

Mason had ordered pizza! And hot dogs! And soda! Man, this was awesome.

"You got Dr. Pepper? I love that soda!" I exclaimed.

"It's all yours," said Mason, smiling. I looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time.

He looked and acted like a teenager, with a mustache to boot. I stared at his deep brown eyes, his mop of brown hair, his perfectly sculpted chin...oh, Batman would have shot and buried me if he knew!

* * *

I chewed on my slice of pizza, thinking about nothing.

"Mason, speaking of restaurants, are you a real waiter?" I said as seductively as I could.

"Yeah! It's an internship."

"Oh, my friend Barbara Gordon has two of those!"

"Oh, Barbara? Damn, she's smoking hot! No offense intended."

"Well, do you get paid?" I felt really jealous that Mason thought Barbara was cute. But she was still my best friend.

"Nah. It's not a real job with pay."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot."

We dug into our hot dogs for a few minutes. "Ugh, I'm full," Mason groaned at last. He took my hand. "Time to dance."

* * *

At the dance club...

Mason led me into the club, which looked more like a sophisticated ballroom to me.

"It's so refined, Mason," I whispered, squeezing his hand and awkwardly smoothing my dress.

"Whatever." His eyes were on...Barbara Gordon?!

"Barbara?" Sure enough, my red-haired friend was there, dancing with a guy who looked really familiar.

"Hi, Annie!" she called. "Man, dancing is hard work. Wait. Annie? You're too young to be here!"

I held up my hands defensively. "Don't look at me, it was his idea." I pointed to Mason.

Barbara's blue-green eyes instantly turned stormy. "Mason," she growled. "Of course. He'll hit on anything with boobs, hips, and an ass."

"Hey!" I protested. "He's really nice!"

"Just watch him dump you like a bag of bolts, Annie," she hissed. "I know this guy. I was in his classes up till eighth grade."

"Yeah, well, you're as hot as you were before, Barbie! Mmm-mmm!" Mason licked his lips. This was disturbing.

"Don't call me that!" Barbara yelled. "You asshole!"

"Why, that's no way for a lady to speak." He was getting annoying.

I turned to my date. "Stop hurting my friend-whoa!"

Mason had grabbed my arms and started dancing with me. I forgot everything except his face and the music.

"When You're Gone" by Avril Lavigne was playing. I hummed along, and it was as if there was no one in the world but me and Mason.

"I love you," Mason whispered, and kissed me on the lips. I felt as if my heart was melting inside a fire that had enveloped me. Then he broke away. Too soon. I wanted him to stay with me.

"Gotta use the lavatory. Go grab a snack," he whispered, and ran off.

I just stood there, then tiptoed away. Sighing, I slumped into a chair.

I felt so exhilarated, but terrible. It was so scandalous, dating at twelve! Bruce was gonna murder me, and I'd been improper, indecent, and promiscuous. God help me now! Yep, I believe in God, but I'm not a Christian. Just saying.

* * *

Mason's POV

The teenager got away from the girl as quickly as he could.

"That naive dumbass!" he cursed. "Glad I got away from her. May I have this dance, Rochelle?" And he turned to the tall brunette young woman who worked for Jonathan Crane.

"Sure, Mason," she purred, and they started dancing, Mason's mind far, far away from Annie.

* * *

Annie's POV

I sat up and decided to see if Mason was back yet. Stepping over to the dance floor, I got a nasty surprise.

There was Mason...dancing with another girl! Rochelle, no less!

My mouth fell open as my mind went on instant replay. Of course! It all made sense! Mason was just using me. Harvey, Bruce, and Rachel were right! I felt worse than ever.

In a daze, I stumbled over to the nearest chair and slipped in it.

For some unknown reason, my eyes welled up, and then I was sobbing like the world had just ended in front of me.

_Heartbreak. So that's what it feels like._


	46. Harvey Chews Out Annalia

Someone put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see...Bruce Wayne?!

I quickly put my head down again. I wasn't in the mood for getting chewed out.

"Annie. Look at me."

I reluctantly stared into his eyes. Those warm hazel eyes. He was even hotter than Mason. Gosh, Mason. That player. I hated him.

"Do you know what you just did?"

"I was a scandalous woman by dating somebody at twelve," I muttered. "I'm not proud of it."

"How do you even know what that means?" Harvey Dent's mom? She pulled off her curly white...wig?...to show Harvey Dent himself in a dress.

I burst out laughing. "Harvey in a dress? That's hilarious!" I gasped, still giggling.

"I did it for you, okay?" Harvey growled. "It was Bruce's idea. Now to fulfill my promise." He grabbed my arm and dragged me outside, with Bruce and that gentleman behind him.

"What was your promise?" I asked.

Harvey turned. "To kick your ass. Thanks to you, I had to dress up as my own mother! Oh, and Mom died when I was 18."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling bad for him. "Wait! You're gonna beat me up?"

"No." His teeth were gritted. "Much worse. For you, anyway."

Uh-oh.

* * *

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?!"

"Um, Harvey, sir, please..." Man! Harvey was almost a different person when angry. I was trembling.

"You dated somebody at...wait, how old are you? Eleven?"

"Twelve," I corrected, still scared out of my mind.

"Twelve! That's just wrong on so many levels! Do you know how much trouble you're in, young lady?"

"Hey! Leave her alone."

Rachel Dawes stalked over to Harvey.

"You're a district attorney!" she exclaimed. "Why the hell are you concerning yourself with one of Annie's shenanigans? She's not nearly as pressing as that new case we've been assigned."

Harvey instantly stopped yelling and sighed. "Right, Rachel. Just blew my cover there." And he squeezed her hand.

Gross! I thought.

Rachel laughed slightly and kissed him hard on the lips. She pulled away and the two of them left, holding hands.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!" I exclaimed. "I thought she was your girlfriend, Bruce! How come she likes him?"

"Beats me," said Bruce.

* * *

At Wayne Manor...

I was walking through the halls of Wayne Manor when all the emotions hit me. Anger, revenge, sadness, regret-I fell to my knees.

"Stop it!" I screamed. "Go away!" I was trying to tell Mason to get out of my head. I hated him! That lying dirtbag! But...I still missed him.

Cursing myself, I stalked towards the library and opened up a good book to take my mind off of Mason.

Then a newspaper fell out.

"Huh?" I picked up the newspaper only to see that there were no comics. "Darn it!" Then I lazily flipped to the ad section-and stopped dead.

_Singing contest now in Gotham! _jumped out at me from the page. Singing? Now I was interested. I kept reading.

A_re you a true soprano? Do you write killer songs? _the ad said. _Then the Gotham City Singing Contest is for you! Write a song and send it to us before June 16th, 2005 to enter yourself in the contest. Also be sure to fill out the form on our website. The song can be about anything you want, except overly negative topics, sex, or drugs. Grand prize is a thousand dollars! Second prize consists of movie tickets and an ice cream maker. The contest is on June 18th, 2005. Criteria for judging the songs is on our website. We can't wait to experience your creativity! _


	47. Catgirl Meets Catwoman and Harvey Dent

"A singing contest!" I shrieked. "I am so there! I'm gonna knock the judges' socks off!"

Grabbing a pair of scissors, I cut out the ad for the contest and tucked it into my pocket. Then I jumped up and ran off to tell Bruce.

Sadly, Bruce wouldn't stop talking on the phone to somebody.

"Um, Bruce..." I stepped closer, hoping to get his attention, but he waved me away and kept talking.

"Oh," I whispered, walking off. I decided I might as well get to work on my song.

Yeah, no. I completely forgot about it, and before I knew it, it was 8:00 PM.

"It's time!" I whispered excitedly, and after putting on my costume in the privacy of my room, I was off to teach some thugs a lesson.

* * *

"Help me!" A young woman's piercing scream cut through the air.

"I'm coming!" I called, and ran to where the scream was coming from.

A really pretty lady who looked very familiar was struggling with a big buff thug. She had on a fur-lined jacket and long black...tights? Or something.

"Hey! Let her go!" I shouted, and forced the goon away from the lady with all my strength, using a roundhouse kick on him.

Panting from fatigue, I grabbed the lady's arm to lead her away, only to have her yank it back.

"So you're the cat who keeps ruining my fun," the woman said in a breathy whisper, and in a matter of moments, she was in a sleek catsuit with goggles on her head and a mask.

"Catgirl, is it? Name's Catwoman," she purred, and she effortlessly grabbed my arms and kneed me in the chest, sending me flying.

It was that thief Selina Kyle! Or Catwoman. I was so surprised to see that she had escaped prison, I could hardly breathe, and did I mention that she knocked the wind out of me?

"You wannabe bad girl," Catwoman snickered, and took a sip of coffee. Don't ask me where she got it. "You know what you are? You're a kitten trying to play with the big cats. You've got a lot of growing up to do. At least if you don't want to get scratched to death." She chuckled, like she'd just told a hilariously funny joke.

I jumped up.

"Big things come in small packages," I retorted.

"On what planet? The little fantasy world you live in that tells you it's completely possible for a kid to fight goons? Please," Catwoman shot back. "Look, go home and leave this stuff to Batman, alright?"

I was so surprised I could hardly breathe. Again. "You know Batman?" I spluttered. Batman had a girlfriend?! Oh, no.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Catwoman snapped. "He's all over the news! And no, he is not my boyfriend, if that's what you think." She must have seen the look on my face. A smile curved on her red lips. "But I'm going to change that, sweetie. Once I meet him, that is."

"Oh, no, you don't!" I exclaimed, balling my hands up into fists. "I beat you once, and I can do it again! You won't touch him!"

"Yeah, you do know I went easy on you, right? If I'd really been trying, you'd have died that day." Catwoman sounded bored.

My mouth fell open. She did what?!

"Well, I've wasted too much time talking to you," Catwoman said disdainfully. "Luckily, I'm adaptable to any situation, especially being late to my own heist. Bye." And she was gone.

I just stared at the spot where she'd been, trying to process what just happened. Then I stood up and ran away.

* * *

A few minutes later...

I ran and ran, thinking about Catwoman. Who was she? What was she?

Then I heard a guy yelling. I ran to the source.

Harvey Dent?! What was he, a stalker? He was almost everywhere I was!

Anyway, he was struggling with a couple of sleazy-looking guys, screaming curses.

"When I get the Dent Act in place, you're history!" he hissed.

"Great way to talk about yourself, Dent," one of the sleazy guys sneered.

That did it. Harvey was my friend, and I was not gonna let him get his butt kicked by these...these freaks.

I stepped forward.

* * *

"Put him down!" I yelled.

* * *

The goons turned. One grinned a grin full of filthy yellow teeth, as if he hadn't brushed in a week. "Well, if it isn't Batman's little friend, Catgirl. You think you're hot stuff, huh? Luke, show this clueless preteen how it's done."

"Yessir," said the other thug, and began coming towards me, slamming his fist in his open hand. Uh-oh.

Just when I'd lost all hope and was preparing for the beating of a lifetime, I heard a swooshing sound. Like a cape. Who did I know that wore a cape?!

"Holy crap, it's Batman! Run for your-" The thug with yellow teeth was knocked out cold before he could finish. The other goon screamed like a girl and ran away.

"Batman!" I cried in delight as I saw him swoop in. "It's you!"

"Of course it's me, you moron!" he growled, skidding to a stop near me. He grabbed me by the neck. "Didn't I tell you not to fight crime alone?"

"Uh, now that you mention it-" He did tell me that.

"You!" Harvey pushed himself off the ground. "What the hell are you doing?"

Batman turned, and something happened. He instantly changed from the sardonic, crazy hero I knew into a calm, collected man.

"Harvey," he growled in a very low voice. "Did you prosecute the mob yet?"

"The court doesn't care! They're best pals with the mob." Harvey sounded desperate. Then he saw me. "What's she doing here?"

Batman put his arm around my shoulders. I felt my cheeks heat up, and my heart started racing.

"Harvey, meet my determined, albeit crazy, partner Catgirl. Catgirl, this is Gotham's DA, Harvey Dent."

"Hi," I said lamely. What else was I supposed to say?

"Catgirl. A pleasure," said Harvey. "Batman talks about you a lot."

"Really? What does he say?" I hoped he hadn't said anything too embarrassing.

"Oh, he says you're crazy, annoying, and that you're a puppy trying to play with the big dogs, but also that you're cute and make him laugh. And he says that you have potential."

Part of me wanted to kick Batman into next year for saying I was annoying, while the other part wanted to jump up and down in joy. Batman thought I had potential! Awesome!


	48. Catwoman Meets Batman

"Wait!" I exclaimed.

"What?" Batman and Harvey said in unison.

"There's this thief called Catwoman. She said she was going to be late to her own heist!" I said desperately.

"Oh, her? I know where she is," Batman said calmly. "You stay here and fight crime, and I'll catch her." And then he was gone.

* * *

**Catwoman's POV**

Selina Kyle landed noiselessly on the bank roof, and started opening the hatch to get in. When it finally creaked open, she slipped inside quiet as a mouse.

A bunch of men in suits and ladies in dresses were traipsing primly around the bank. Rich people, she thought in disgust. They're seriously overrated.

Thoughts swirled through the beautiful cat burglar's head, but one person dominated them. Catgirl.

Selina honestly wanted to find that girl and beat her self-righteous ass until she cried. What was she, eleven? She thought she was some kind of hero, that she knew better than sensible adults!

"Typical kids," Catwoman muttered. But in that way, she almost empathized with Catgirl. She remembered her own teenage years, thinking she was always right and could actually fight the system.

"Poor kid. She's gonna get her ass handed to her one day," Selina murmured. Then she heard glass breaking, and looked up to see her boyfriend-to-be. Batman.

Batman stalked gingerly over to her, his teeth gritted. "Where's the money?"

"Batman, is it? So nice to meet you," she cooed, cupping his chin in her hand and pulling his face closer to hers.

He pushed her away, to her surprise. "Seduction doesn't work on me," he growled in a low voice. "Besides, you're not very impressive."

"Oh, really? Name one lady you've dated who's prettier than yours truly," Catwoman shot back, unused to men rejecting her.

"Whatever. I'm single. Now tell me where the money is before I...do things to you." Batman's voice was angry, but Selina detected an excited gleam in his eye.

She came closer to him. "It's in the safe on the bottom floor," she purred, her lips nearly touching his ear. "Never thought I'd say that." And with a chuckle, she pulled away.


	49. Going Home: Catgirl Quits

**A/N: So I was thinking about what a reviewer said, and thought that I could have Catgirl quit, then return. Cool, huh?**

**Warning! Lots of angst, not as happy and cheery as previous chapters. But this story will become more lighthearted soon. Happy reading!**

**Oh, and flamers will be reported, and sent a rage-filled PM in response if they're logged in. Have a nice day :)**

* * *

Catgirl's POV

Harvey Dent and I just stood there for a while. Then he sighed.

"Kid, you do realize this hero business is illegal, right?" he said bluntly.

I froze. Illegal? I was committing a crime by fighting it? No, no, he was joking! I said this.

"I'm serious. I could have you thrown into juvenile hall for this," he replied in that same blunt tone.

I just stood there, blinking. That wasn't true! It couldn't be! Suddenly, I felt my heart grow heavy with the weight of my deeds. I had committed a crime.

"No," I whispered."No, no, no. No. NO!"

"Catgirl, it's okay..." Harvey Dent tried to comfort me, but I had had enough. I was just about to shriek some choice words at the stuck-up Mr. I-Am-Always-Right DA when we heard screaming.

A couple of goons came in with a little kid who looked about seven.

"Listen, kid, it'll only hurt for a bit, then it'll be all better!" one thug said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"No! I want Mama!" the kid wailed, kicking his legs at the goon.

"Fine," said the goon. "You'll join Mommy up in the sky." And he started kicking the child repeatedly.

"Kill him and you're dead," I threatened.

The goon turned. "No," he said. "You are." And he fired his gun.

I quickly ducked down, only to feel a strong pair of arms wrap around me, with a familiar hint of cologne. Harvey was protecting me!

"Thanks, Harvey," I whispered into his shirt. "You're the best." And then I was hugging him.

I was rudely awakened from my smiling dreams with a loud wail. The goon was hitting the kid harder.

"Don't look." Even brave Harvey Dent's voice was shaking. "Don't look."

"Why?"

"He's hurt. The kid. Really hurt."

"No...maybe he's alive. I have to save him!"

"Don't you dare. You're risking your life here."

I sighed. "Okay."

I buried my face in Harvey's shoulder and kept clinging to him while the terrible screams echoed through the cold night air. Then the screams grew lower and lower, and finally stopped in a gurgling noise.

"He's dead." Harvey's voice was shaking.

"No!" I yelled, and jumped out of Harvey's arms. "You liar! You murderer! Thanks to you, I couldn't save him!'

"Catgirl, don't you get it? The kid's gone, and you would have been too."

I got it. Walking over to Harvey Dent, I hugged him for a long time.

Then I went to see the body. It was terrible.

The kid had blood all over his body from being beaten up, with white goo leaking from his eyes and limbs twisted every which way. And those were the not-so-bad parts.

People say that one thing can change your life. That happened to me that day.

As I bent over the dead boy, all the past events replayed in my head. Me getting trained, me meeting Batman...but it all seemed so frivolous. So silly. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest.

I couldn't believe this. Stupid twelve-year-old me. I thought this was gonna be fun, fighting bad guys. But a kid was dead, and how much had I really done anyway? Sure, I'd fought a couple of thugs. But...I hadn't saved anyone. Crimefighting wasn't fun. It was gory and evil and noisy and chaotic. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I thought of all those nights I'd wasted talking to Batman while kids died in the streets. I was no crime fighter. I was a wannabe. Batman was right.

"That's it," I muttered. I found a Post-it on the ground and a pen. Scribbling something down, I stuck it on a pillar.

"Catgirl?" Harvey Dent sounded concerned.

"I'm going home," I whispered shakily. My voice rose in hysteria. "I'm going home! Goodbye, Harvey!"

Crying, I ran off, leaving Harvey Dent alone.


	50. Arkham and Screaming

**Batman's POV**

* * *

The Dark Knight stopped Catwoman and saved the day, as usual. People stared and pointed and took pictures, also as usual.

But what he saw when he went back to check on Catgirl was definitely not usual. Very unusual, in fact.

She was gone.

"Where is she?" Batman said harshly to Harvey Dent. "What did you do to her?"

"Catgirl? I didn't do anything! She just couldn't save him." Harvey pointed to the dead boy.

"I see." Batman's eyes were solemn. "Where is she now?"

"She said she was going home, then ran away. I think she was crying," Harvey obediently reported.

Batman let out a puff of air. "Ran away? Well, she...she...Harvey, you go home. I'm going to think for a bit."

With Harvey gone, Batman found his Tumbler and started it up. He only started it up when he was very angry-or very sad.

* * *

"Master Bruce." Alfred's voice sounded on the intercom. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, Alfred. Just a little shaken." Batman sighed and looked out the window to see some kids playing jump rope. He almost smiled-until he saw the girl in the black dress.

"C'mon, guys! You do it like this, not like that!" Her voice was high, sweet, clear-and astonishingly familiar. Catgirl?

The girl turned to reveal a face exactly like Catgirl's, but without the mask or cat ears.

"What the hell?" Batman rubbed his eyes. He looked up again to see that the girl was a green-eyed blonde.

"Huh." He drove away.

* * *

As Batman drove, he saw a woman turn and smile at him. Wait. Catgirl? Was that her? Again?

"I've gone crazy," Batman muttered before driving away at full throttle.

* * *

**Catgirl's POV**

I sped through the narrows, hot tears running down my cheeks. I felt shocked to the core about the reality of Gotham. People died every day or were thrown into Arkham Asylum.

Stupid me! I was just a wannabe-heroine-turned-criminal! I couldn't believe I'd ever tried to be a hero. I was a messed-up freak.

I suddenly fell to my knees and screamed, clutching my hair.

"Yeeeeaaaaaaggggghhhh!"

It was all too much. My 12-year-old mind couldn't take it.

"Holy crap, is she okay?" I looked up to see a thug.

"What are you looking at?" I snarled. I stood up. "Leave me alone!" I ran off sobbing.

I don't wanna go to Arkham, I whined in my mind like a little kid. Or jail!


	51. Girls' Night Out

At last, my legs screaming in pain, I reached Wayne Manor. Going inside like I always did, I closed the door of my room and the window. Sighing, I took off my costume, put it in a box, and stashed it away for good. Or so I thought.

"Goodbye, Catgirl," I whispered. "I'll miss you."

* * *

**The next day...**

I yawned and pushed myself out of bed. I wondered what would happen today.

After pulling a comb through my tangled brown hair, I got dressed in an old T-shirt and light blue bootcut jeans.

Now how did Bruce Wayne know that girls wore bootcuts and skinny jeans and stuff? Well, he might have gone shopping for Rachel...wait. Bruce? Shopping? I'd seen shopping on TV where the people doing it fussed over clothes and lipstick and whether that gray jacket went with that black skirt. Just the thought of Bruce doing that was _hilarious_.

"Hello?" I called as I stepped into the living room. "Anyone here? Or am I the early bird who got the worm?" I giggled slightly at my own lame joke.

Suddenly, the armchair in front of me swiveled to reveal dear old (well, not _that _old) Bruce Wayne. But he wasn't smiling. He was staring at a computer screen.

"Hi!" I said cheerily. "Today's gonna be a snappy new day! Right, Bruce?"

* * *

"Wonderful." Bruce's voice was strangely flat. "Go have some fun. I have work to do."

I put a mock pout on my face. "Couldn't have said hello, could you, Mr. Prince of Gotham?" I went behind the chair and peeked over his shoulder. "Whatcha working on?"

"Super-secret stuff."

"Super-secret stuff? Ooh, are you an undercover spy? Are you gonna punch bad guys and save the world? Can I do it, too?"

* * *

Bruce turned and looked at me as if I'd told him I was an alien from Mars.

"Seriously?" he said flatly. "You read _way _too much. Go outside and look at the real world."

Hurt by those words, I bit my lip to keep from screaming. _Like you ever look at the real world, Mr. Perfect! _

My angry thoughts were interrupted by a loud buzzing noise.

Bruce sighed and pulled out his phone. He pushed a button and put it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said. Then his face brightened. "Rachel! Whatcha doing?" His face suddenly darkened. "What? Really? Well, okay, I'll get her ready and you can come get her in ten minutes. I love you. Bye." Bruce hung up. "Rachel wants you to go somewhere with her. Go get ready."

"Okay!" Yay! I liked Rachel. I ran to my room.

* * *

At last, I came out of my room with my hair pulled back in a half-up, half-down style. Grandma had taught me that style a few months before she died.

Biting my lip to keep from crying, I sighed and went to brush my teeth.

I was humming the "Happy Birthday" song while brushing when I heard a loud knock on the door. Quickly rinsing my mouth, I ran to get it.


	52. Girls' Night Out Part 2

"Rachel!" I exclaimed, flinging open the door. The two of us hugged for what seemed like forever.

Rachel me down with an ambitious gleam in her eye. "Annie, what the hell are you doing in an old shirt and jeans?" she said. "That tears it. We're going on a girls' night out. We'll buy everything under the sun. Well, within reason." She winked at me.

"Awesome! Can we get nail polish?"

"Oh, heck, yeah!"

"Alfred, remind me again what women find so amusing about giggling over skirts and high heels?" Bruce whispered to Alfred. Wait, Alfred? How did he get here?

"Oh, Bruce, you'd never understand," Rachel shot back. "I ought to ask you what you find so amusing about watching a bunch of guys slam into each other."

"It's called football, Rachel, and it is very amusing," Bruce lectured. "Well, have fun, girls!"

* * *

"We are going to have so much fun," Rachel gushed. "And guess who's coming along!"

Barbara Gordon stomped over wearing a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a very grumpy expression on her face.

"Hi!" I greeted her. "I'm so excited!"

"I'm doing this for you, okay?" she growled. "And I need new clothes. If I had my way, I'd be home doing Calculus with Dad."

"Don't be such a sourpuss. It'll be fun." Barbara was still frowning. Rachel sighed. "Okay, we can get some math stuff while we're there. Sound good?"

It was Barbara's turn to sigh. "Okay, fine. But don't expect me to like it!"

* * *

"Who's driving?" my redheaded friend asked Rachel. "You?"

"Nah, I convinced my partner to do it." Rachel giggled.

"Bruce?" Barbara looked puzzled.

"No," I whispered, suddenly aware of what she was saying. "She likes someone else."

Before I could say anything more, a black car swerved up the road and screeched to a stop in front of us. The window rolled down to reveal a familiar face.

"Harvey?!" Yep, he was a stalker.

"You?!" Barbara looked surprised and mad. Huh. Why?

"Look, it was Rachel's idea, okay?" he growled. "I'll drop you off at the mall and go watch the big game with Bruce. We've been planning it for weeks! Then you call me when you want to go home, and I'll pick you up. Now get in!" We immediately obeyed.

* * *

"I've gotta stop being swayed by your powers of persuasion, Rachel," Harvey muttered.

"Oh, just drive, you big silly." Rachel seemed unusually happy that day, now that I think about it.

When we reached the mall (called Gotham Mall, by the way-how original *eyeroll*), Rachel immediately whisked us to the clothing store.

"Annie, this purple T-shirt would look amazing on you," she gushed, holding up a really cute purple T-shirt with ruffles.

"Wow! That's awesome!" I squealed.

* * *

**A few minutes later...**

* * *

"No, no, no!" Barbara exclaimed, finally starting to participate. "Annie, those jeans are wrong for you in so many ways! They're too low-rise, and they ride up way past your ankles!"

Surprised by my friend's clothing knowledge, I looked down to see that she was right. "Thanks, Barb! Can I call you Barb?"

"Sure, what the heck." Barbara started looking through a bunch of dresses before pulling one out with a satisfied "Aha!".

"John and I are going on a date this Saturday. I'm so wearing this!" It was a purple knee-length dress with only one strap.

I blinked. "Okay, Barb, first off, who's John, and second, why does that dress have only one strap?"

My redheaded companion laughed. "Sorry, Annie, I totally forgot to tell you. John's a cop in Dad's police force. He's 19. Obviously, we're dating. Dad wanted me to date an upright, honest man closer to my age, not some 30-something who would kick me to the curb after sex. Oh, and the dress is supposed to have one strap. I have no idea why." She shrugged.

I blinked again, astonished. Barbara had a _boyfriend? _Barbara, my brash, smart, confident buddy whom I knew and loved, was _dating__? _

_"_Barbara!" Rachel hissed, elbowing her. "Don't talk about that stuff in front of her!"

"Ah, c'mon, she needs to learn sometime," Barbara said casually.

Suddenly, a scene flashed before my eyes. A yard with chairs, with two men on a stage. Commissioner Gordon and a young guy. A man wailing besides a stretcher.

Wait!

When that kid I saved got shot, Barbara's dad and a young cop had calmed the public. Barbara had been dancing with the same guy when I was dating Mason. _That was John. _

"Of course!" I said a little loudly.

Rachel made the _shh_ sound and put a finger to her lips. I shut up. But it was true. How could I have missed that? Barbara was dating a cop!


	53. Girls' Night Out Part 3

**A/N: I am SO SORRY I didn't update in so long! I've just been ridiculously busy, and I have to write other stuff, and I'm not as obsessed with Batman as I used to be, so...yeah.**

**I really hope I haven't caused any trouble because I was so freaking lazy.**

**Anyway, the updates will start rolling in now (I hope) ! Happy reading :)**

* * *

When I thought about it, it wasn't really that unusual. At least Barbara found love. With a cop, at least, and not some jerk who couldn't love anything.

"Annie, I found some great nail polish!" Rachel snapped me back to reality.

"Really? Cool!" I said.

"Hot pink? I love that color!" I gushed. "And it's breathable! That is so cool! Whatever 'breathable' means."

* * *

"Who's hungry?" Rachel declared some time afterwards. "There's a great all-you-can-eat buffet called _Steve's Eats_ over there!" She pointed to the right.

"Can we have dessert? Like ice cream and stuff?" I said tentatively.

"Of course! Just because Bruce is too formal to let you eat anything but soup and gravy doesn't mean I am!"

"Yay!" I cheered, and even Barb smiled.

"Okay, but chocolate ice cream for me! I go crazy if there's chocolate within a ten-meter radius and I don't get it," Barbara warned.

* * *

We shuffled into the buffet, wondering what was in store.

I watched Rachel, admiring how direct she was in paying for the food. If that were me, I'd start stuttering or say something ridiculously stupid.

"I remember a girl called Sharon who worked here," Rachel was saying in her clear voice. "Where'd she go?"

"Rachel!" a lady shrieked, pushing the first cashier aside. The two hugged over the counter.

_Rachel has a friend here? My life gets stranger and stranger... _I thought.

Okay, the "lady" wasn't that old. She looked like somebody from college, which was still pretty old, but she had a weird...vitality about her, as if she was glowing.

"Oh my god, Sharon, what's going on? Where have you been?" Rachel gushed.

"I'm getting married!" she said enthusiastically. "Rachel, he's so sweet and smart! And not bad-looking either."

Rachel laughed. "That's amazing! Congrats. Sharon, these are my little friends, Annie and Barbara. Annie and Barbara, this is Sharon, my roommate from college. This was my first job. We worked here together."

"We're not little!" Barb and I said in unison.

"Of course not," Sharon teased. "Well, you guys were so nice as to pay, unlike_ some_ people..." She gestured to the window of the buffet, where two filthy goons were smoking. "...so you guys are now officially welcome to _Steve's Eats_!"_  
_

Soon we were at a table, enjoying delicacies fit for a queen. I was happily feasting on macaroni and cheese, waffles, and drinking lemonade. I hadn't realized how famished I was until now!

Barbara was digging into a Caesar salad and some veggie-filled minestrone soup (we are so different, I know. But I love her-as a friend :D), and staring longingly at the picture of chocolate ice cream that was near the menu. Rachel was eating a big salad and some hummus, and frequently reminding me not to eat so much at a time.

* * *

**A great meal and some ice cream later...**

Rachel, Barbara, and I ran out of the store giggling like crazy people with huge shopping bags in our hands. Rachel pulled out her cell phone and punched in some numbers.

"Hello, Harvey?" she said breathlessly. "Yep, we're done. It was awesome. Get here quick, you noob! Love ya. Bye." She hung up.

In a few minutes, a familiar black car pulled up, and we scrambled in.

* * *

"You got food!" Harvey exclaimed. "Nothing for me?"

"Selfish boy. Of course I did," Rachel smiled. "It's in the bag." She patted the plastic bag filled with food containers beside her.


	54. A Surprise Visit

It was night when I got home. I got out, said goodbye to everybody and went home to Wayne Manor.

"Bruce! Alfred!" I called. "Honey, I'm home!" (I am such an idiot, I know.)

Nobody replied. "Hello? Bruce? Alfred?" I called, feeling a bit concerned.

"Annie! You back already?"

"Bruce!" I cried, running towards where his voice was coming from. I was just about to give him a big hug when I saw what he was doing.

He was typing furiously on a laptop, with Alfred standing off to the side.

"Hello, Annie," said Alfred in his cool accent. "Don't mind Bruce. He's very busy. So how was the shopping trip?"

"It was great!" I said enthusiastically. "I got all this stuff!" I held up my bags of ...well, stuff.

"Wonderful." Bruce didn't sound interested. "Look, there's some mashed potatoes in the fridge if you're hungry. Knock yourself out."

Surprised, I obeyed him.

* * *

That night, after eating mashed potatoes and lamenting how distant Bruce seemed, I instinctively walked over to the closet to put on my costume...when I remembered. I wasn't Catgirl anymore.

Clutching the box that held my costume, I felt memories rush through me. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I felt like sobbing aloud.

_You're not her anymore_, I told myself._ She's gone. You're a normal girl, not a cat-obsessed freak who thinks she can help. That's what you were before. Not now. Put your past behind you. _And with that said (or thought), I stashed the box away where no one could see it and climbed into bed.

But even after my lecture to myself, I still felt a bittersweet feeling inside when I recalled my adventures as a hero.

_That's gone now. Gone forever. Catgirl's dead. You can't do this type of stuff ever again._

Turning off the light, I soon fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Or so I thought.

Rustle. Rustle.

I heard it. A rustling noise. Probably just the wind. I tried to get back into my restful snooze.

**Three minutes later...**

I heard it again. Fed up, I crossed to my closet and threw the door open.

"Hi," a familiar voice grunted.

I screamed and jumped behind a pillow. A pillow.

It was Batman! I hadn't seen him in so long that I was actually scared of him. I would have been happy to see him if I wasn't so surprised.

"Couldn't have said hello?" Batman growled, still crouching in my closet. "It's been a long time, kid. Now I need you to answer a question."

"Sure." The worst he could say was where I'd been...oh, wait.

"What the hell happened to Catgirl?"

I gasped. Should I tell him that I wasn't a hero anymore? He would deem it cowardly. But it wasn't. It wasn't.

I decided to come clean. He knew my true identity, anyway.

"I don't do that anymore!" I blurted out. "I can't do anything anyway! People die at the hands of evil, and I can't change that! Ever!"

Batman stared at me for a long time. Then he spoke.

"If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." And then he was gone.

I smiled. He always made me feel better. Hiding under the covers and switching off the light, I went to sleep. For real this time.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I know, I took forever to update. Please review! I need feedback on my new chapters...**

**So the story's going to get more action-packed now. Don't worry, Selina Kyle fans (especially Irish Maiden16), you'll see more of her soon!**


	55. Annie and a Beautiful Thief

The next day, I yawned and got up. "Morning!" I called to no one in particular. "Today's gonna be a great day!"

After the happenings of last night, I was feeling pretty upbeat.

I stumbled into the kitchen to make a peanut butter sandwich. Pouring a glass of milk, I sat down at the table and savored my snack.

I didn't mention it before, but I love peanut butter. I've been eating it since I was only three.

Suddenly, I heard somebody walk in. I looked up.

"Hi, are you Annie? Bruce talks about you a lot. If you need anything, just give me a holler." The lady smiling down at me seemed nice, but I knew that she was anything but sweet.

It was Selina Kyle.

Resisting the urge to shout, "You! Get out of my house, now!", I pasted a fake grin on my face. "Yes, madam, I'm Annie. I don't need anything right now, thank you."

The maid's warm smile suddenly turned into a devious grin. "You don't, eh? Just as well." She shot a strange needle into my arm, and that's the last thing I remember about that day.

* * *

**Bruce's POV**

Bruce Wayne was typing on a computer when he heard a strange _click! _noise.

"Huh?" He stood up. "What was that?"

"The clicking noise? Probably just the wind, Master Bruce," Alfred said coolly.

"No, I think...I think an uninvited guest is here." Bruce's fists clenched. He strode away to the source of the noise.

"What the hell?" he gasped. Annie, sweet little Annie with her can-do attitude, was slumped on the sofa, her eyes closed. She wasn't breathing.

Quickly, he checked her pulse. None.

"Alfred! Annie's out cold!" he yelled.

Alfred hurried to his friend. "What? Who could do this?" His accented voice rose in anger. Annie had such contagious sass and energy that Alfred saw her as the happy little daughter he'd never had.

And nobody messed with his family. _Nobody._

"People are crazy, Alfred," Bruce said angrily. He stormed off. "I'm getting my fingerprint dusting and analysis kit. The culprit won't get away with this. I mean, knocking a little girl unconscious! I knew Gotham people were no picnic, but some people take 'douchebag' to a whole new level."

"All right, sir." Alfred watched Bruce leave. He stared at Annie and felt like crying. Poor girl, only here a few days, and she'd already gotten in serious trouble.

* * *

**Selina's** **POV**

Selina had fled the scene long before, and was now coolly observing Alfred and Bruce from behind a pillar. Stupid men, they were so absorbed with the kid that they didn't see her steal Bruce's precious pearl necklace. It was rumored to have belonged to his mother when she was alive.

At the thought of Bruce, she suddenly felt lightheaded and as if her insides were melting. She felt an idiotic grin creep onto her face.

"Ugh!" she whispered furiously, mentally slapping herself. "Stop these stupid feelings and find the Clean Slate! Bruce is just another arrogant rich prick. There are bigger fish to fry."

And with new resolve filling her, the thief stalked away to find her key to a new life.

But even after her Bruce-hating speech, thoughts of him filled her mind.


	56. Friendship, Revenge, and Workaholics

**Bruce's POV**

Bruce came back with the kit and started dusting the needle in Annie's arm for fingerprints. The needle had a green sac of liquid at the end. Probably a drug.

He found...nothing.

"No prints! But someone did this!" he exclaimed. "Who could it have been?"

"Y'know, you really shouldn't be so attached to somebody you haven't even known for three weeks."

* * *

Bruce and Alfred whirled to see a young woman stalking towards them, her hips swaying, and a dangerous smile on her red lips. She had dark brown eyes and long chocolate-brown hair.

"Who are you?" Bruce struggled to curb his sudden feelings of attraction towards this girl. "Did you do this?"

"Stupid," she chuckled. "I'm Selina Kyle, master thief, master temptress. Ring a bell?" She did a 'cuckoo, cuckoo' motion around her ear.

"I don't give a crap," Bruce said bravely. "Annie's very annoying more often than not, and I don't know her too well, but..." He raised his voice. "You knocked a kid unconscious! She could die!"

"No, she won't. That's one of my non-lethal knockouts." Selina chuckled. "Bruce, right?"

"Yes, why?"

"You know your own name, but you're too idiotic to see what I stole from you-what you love most." She held up the pearl necklace. "See ya, Brucie." And she was gone.

Absolutely surprised, Bruce told Alfred to help carry Annie to her room, and they did.

Picking up the phone, Bruce told Barbara Gordon what had happened-except about Selina. He'd tell her later.

"What? That bastard!" she raged. "Who could drug Annie? WHO? Don't you worry, I'll be right over!"

* * *

Two days later...

* * *

**Annie's POV**

I blinked my eyes open with great effort. At first, I had no idea where I was, or who I was. I felt like I was in a dream.

"Annie?" A familiar voice said my name. Barbara! But she sounded far away, and muffled. "Annie? Are you all right?"

I tried to lift my head, then groaned in fatigue, "Mm-hmm. What happened? I feel weird."

"You were drugged," Barbara explained, sounding clearer as I came back to my senses.

I jolted up. "_What_?"

"Yeah," she said grimly. "Kid, do you remember anything that happened before you got drugged? Do you think you can remember who did it? I'm going to find whoever knocked you out cold and punch them until they have to go to the hospital."

Aww, I love Barbara. She's the only one who's there for me sometimes.

I thought for a moment. Then I had it.

"Selina! She came disguised as a maid and shot me with a strange needle!" I exclaimed.

Barbara's face darkened, and her fists clenched.

The voice that came out of her mouth was unlike anything I'd heard before-low and contemptuous, with undertones of revenge.

"Selina. I thought you-I mean, Catgirl-arrested her. Don't worry, Annie. I'll find that self-righteous arrogant harlot and tear her to pieces. Nobody messes with my friends. _Nobody_."

Barbara was too awesome to be here with me. My eyes welling up, I held out my arms, and she hugged me.

I cried like a baby, much to my embarrassment.

"Don't cry, kid. I'll take care of everything, promise."

"You're too amazing for words, Barb," I sobbed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything."

"Where's Bruce? I want to see him."

Barbara pulled away and sighed. "Bruce left. When you started showing signs of life, he conveniently had to start working at his job again. The workaholic."

"No, he isn't!" I had to defend Bruce. "He's just busy with stuff, that's all!" Workaholics were people who worshipped their job and ignored everything else. Bruce just had stuff to do. He was still the same, happy-go-lucky guy. Right?

Right. I needed to quit worrying. I loved Bruce. I am a creep, I know.

"Well put, Miss Annie."

I looked up to see..._Alfred?! _I didn't even notice him! Man, he had the camouflage skills of a chameleon!

"Thanks, Alfred, sir!" I exclaimed.

"Not a problem. Just doing my job," he smiled.

"I guess you're right, Annie. I gotta go." Barb hugged me one more time, then left.

I sighed. I felt like a jerk, like those kids who fake tuberclosis or something to get out of school. It didn't feel right, you know? Weird, because I wasn't faking.

I looked at a calendar nearby and realized with surprise that I had lived here for a week and a half. Time sure flew.

* * *

**A/N: I know my chapters are really short, but I caught writer's block :(**

**I'm slowly easing back into the Batman fandom, so please bear with me. And please review!**


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